Swallow the Shadows
by ShadowThorne
Summary: Grimmjow grows up with nightmares that are more real than most. They haunt his waking world as well as his dreaming. What happens when one gets a little too bold and Grimmjow can't fight it off? Help arrives in an unlikely form. Grimm/Shiro
1. Chapter 1

**For some reason, I'm really self conscience about uploading this... I think it's because this is my first attempt at writing first person. So I have no idea if the second chapter will be in first person or if I'll give up and go back to the style I normally write in *shrug* You guys will have to let me know what you think of it.**

**Anyway, this first chapter is really short because it's more of an introduction sort of thing. Expect future chapters to be a little longer (though don't ever take my word for it).**

**Enjoy~!  
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"_I'm not taking those damn things again." _

"_You will, even if I have to force them down your throat like some dog, you'll take them."_

Ever since I can remember, I had been a little...different. He always told me it was just a faze, I'd grow out of it. The list of excuses was endless; they weren't real, I was seeing things, they were only in my head. When I would wake him with my screaming in the middle of the night, he would never believe me, no one did. They couldn't see what I could; the things that I shouldn't. Unlike most young children, I never grew out of it.

It only got worse as I started attending high school. As if I didn't stand out enough, I had been too young, too stupid to understand that the other kids couldn't see the same things I could. It got me into a lot of trouble, a lot of fights. The teachers didn't like me telling stories and scaring the other kids. They didn't like me spreading lies. They called my father and told him I was trying to scare the other students, that I was looking for attention and starting fights. They no longer chocked it up to an over active imagination like when I was little, but started saying there was something wrong with me.

It angered me when they sent me to the office, or tried to make me hold a meeting with the school counselor, like I was supposed to pour my guts out and cry about all my problems. Tch. There was nothing wrong with me. I'd shut my mouth and grit my teeth, refusing to talk. I'd clench my fists at my sides, knuckles turning white as I fought to stay calm and not lash out. I've always been brash, easy to anger and quick to battle and it was no different when I was younger.

"_I don't need them. There is nothing wrong with me."_

The taunting got to be too much, the yelling and teasing wore on my already short temper. At first I just tried to talk my way out, reason with the bullies who thought they could beat up on the weird kid with the odd hair that talked about even stranger things. When that didn't work, I tried running away. Kind of. I'd never really been the type to tuck my tail and flee. I dragged myself home limping and bleeding from another unfair fight too many times to count. They'd corner me in alleys outside of the school, or drag me into the locker room, occasionally one of the assholes would get brave and attempt to beat me down in the hallway while his cronies laughed. After taking beating after beating, for any reason some asshole could come up with, one tends to learn how to fight back. I had even had to be taken to the hospital a couple times; broken bones, bruised muscle, stitches for gashes caused by broken glass and hard knuckles.

Eventually, he got sick of it, something inside snapping his patience for his 'problematic' and unruly child. When yelling, scolding and threatening didn't solve the problem, he turned to other methods.

Then came the shrinks. He took me to doctor after doctor, to psychiatrists and therapists, counselors, anyone he could find. They ran test after test, asked me question after question, poked and prodded, made me do the stupidest things. They took MRIs and scans of my brain, one even tried hypnosis. Everything always pointed to the same prognosis, the same conclusion; that there was nothing wrong with me, physically or mentally. But my problem kept persisting. They didn't go away. The specters and the entities still hovered at the edge of my vision. Sometimes I wouldn't see them for days, sometimes weeks, but they always came back; dark shadows darting down hallways and around corners. It didn't seem to matter where I was. I'd see a certain few I came to recognize while at home, but I would see others while walking down the street, or in stores, even in the school occasionally. Most were just shadows, some of them almost had a body, others hardly looked human at all. They were the things of nightmares and cheap horror movies but they were real. I tried to ignore them, but I didn't understand what they were or what was causing them. I didn't understand why I could see these things and no one else could.

They weren't everywhere at once. It's not like there were millions just walking down the streets. They were shadowy things, hard to see and harder to identify as real and if you tried to look right at them they usually disappeared like smoke. I rarely saw more than one a day, usually a couple times a week at most. But the occurrences and visions added up over the years and the older I got the angrier my father got and the more trouble I got into.

After nearly a year of searching for a doctor that could help me, that could make these things go away, a doctor that could make me normal, my father finally found one. The shrink was an odd man that charged nearly double what the others had just to look at me. I had tried telling my father it wasn't worth it, this guy would say the same thing all the others did; that there was nothing wrong with me.

But he didn't say the same things. He conducted his tests, made me answer his questions and tell him about the things I would see, tell him about how they usually didn't seem to see me, like they weren't really in the same place at the same time as me. Most of the time they would just repeat on a loop, going about their business and not bother to acknowledge my presence. Every once in a while, one would glance in my direction before disappearing, but I could never tell if it was coincidence or if it was actually looking at me.

After seeing this guy for a week and waiting even longer for results, my father was told I had some type of mental disorder. He said the things I was seeing were hallucinations and symptoms of the disorder. Apparently it also explained why I got angry easily, why I started fights and it could even be the cause of my less then perfect grades. It became the answer for everything that was wrong with me; just another excuse. I was prescribed with medication; pills to make the visions and specters go away, drugs to make me normal.

"_Just swallow already and you'd quit choking." My father said, his voice deep and calm, showing no strain at all as he clamped his hand over my face and forced me to tilt my head back. He pinched my nose closed, not letting me draw breath until I swallowed the damn pills. It didn't matter that his only child was beginning to get light-headed and my face was turning purple. It didn't matter that tears stung my eyes and ran down my face, that my legs were shaking and trying to give out on me, just so long as I took the medication. I struggled and fought against him, but in the end, I had to breathe somehow._

But the drugs didn't make the visions stop, they didn't scare the entities away or release my demons. They only numbed me up, drugged me and dragged me down, clouded my head until I couldn't focus on them enough to care. Shadows still danced at the edges of my vision, still brushed passed me in the dark hallways of my family home. I just couldn't bring myself to care anymore. The medicine didn't fix anything, it didn't make me normal, it only made me...placid, dulled, less than myself. It took my fire. But maybe that's what normal was.

Something took notice of my less than alert condition. It was the first time one of them that had ever touched me, ever showed it's self so obviously and so boldly. It was the first time one had deviated from it's loop to inspect the weird kid that could see it. It didn't flit around the edges of my vision like the others, it didn't scurry away when I tried to look directly at it, didn't fade away into nothingness like a hallucination. It waited until the drugs in my system kicked in and made me drowsy, made me lethargic. Made me normal.

I would wake up the next morning, vague memories of this hulking, dark mass floating about and think it had been a dream induced by my medication only to try getting out of bed to find that I had claw marks covering my arms, or a black eye and bloody lip, or some other wound that I had no explanation for.

I could swallow all the pills he forced down my throat, but I could never swallow the shadows.

_I sat on the cold tile of the kitchen floor, coughing and sucking in lungfuls of air, waiting for my head to stop spinning and start sinking. Finally, the medication sank in and the color returned to my face and I pulled myself from the floor, ignoring my father's disapproving, disappointed glare. I told myself I'd find a way to make this stop; I'll end this, I'm not crazy, I don't need to be medicated like a mental patient. I chanted it over and over in my hazy mind as I walked toward the bathroom and began cleaning up the dried blood scabbing the dragging marks down my back as best I could. By the time the blood was gone, the marks were nearly gone as well and the medication I was on made me forget what I had been trying to convince myself of in the first place._

The marks always hurt, always stung like a bitch, nearly bringing tears to my eyes but by the end of the day all evidence would be gone, like nothing had happened at all. It was scary shit; not having proof that something was happening to you when you slept and having no one believe you. I was terrified to enter my room, terrified to fall asleep but you can only stay awake for so long before exhaustion takes hold. After the third time falling asleep during class I got sent home with a detention, my father got mad. I was forced to take my meds and I fell asleep after dragging myself to my room. It would find me again, that massive, shadowy thing that couldn't have been a human once upon a time. Again, just like every other night, it would leave me no proof that something was happening.

I tried going to the only person I knew, the one that should have cared, that should have helped me. My father once again told me it was all in my head, that I must have done it to myself in my sleep or he would accuse me of fighting at school again. He turned me away and, just like that, I did the same to him. I did the same to everyone.

I stopped going to my father for support. I stopped trying to tell others of the things I could see, the things they couldn't and so therefore couldn't exist. I stopped asking for help. I played the part of the good boy, the good son, so long as I was left alone. I was done taking shit from others and I was done caring what they thought. The people around me learned of the change in attitude quickly.

"_Grimmjow. The principal called again." I just ignored him, like always. Kept staring straight ahead with slightly dulled blue eyes as I walked through the front door and dropped my bag of untouched school books onto the floor. I raised my hand and wiped a small trickle of blood from my lip with the backs of my fingers._

"_Ok." I shrugged and trudged down the hall, hoping, nearly praying, that he would slip up, that he would be too busy thinking about the phone call he apparently just received to force me to take the medication I had been taking since my sophomore year. It was finally beginning to wear off since this morning's dose, I was finally beginning to be able to see straight again. No such luck._

The fights persisted, of course, at least for a while. My father would get a call, I would get scolded and ultimately be forced to take more pills after I cleaned up whatever was left behind from my fights. The routine got old and I got mad. I destroyed things; my room, the mirror that hung there, the pictures that I once cherished, the people that got in my way. It didn't take long to gain the reputation I desired; fuck with me and I'll gladly fuck you up.

Without being worried about fitting in or pleasing those around me, without being afraid of what would happen, I was free. It was a new found freedom of sorts that I had never before had. By my senior year, I was the loner that everyone had forgotten why they left alone but knew it was in their best interest to continue doing so. It was the freedom to wonder at my sanity and hate those around me in privacy. I had become a King with no subjects and I was ok with that.

My last year of high school didn't fly by like old people always say it does. It dragged by, crawled passed and seemed to never end. It was filled with the same shit; more fights, more jeers and broken noses, more phone calls to my father and the threat to send me away. I almost would have welcomed that, had I not known it would have been to juvenile or worse.

I kept to myself, keeping my hands stuffed in my pockets where they couldn't hurt anyone but I kept my head held high. I had no friends and nothing better to do so I worked out, buffed up and surely put an end to any thoughts that I was just some scrawny kid to pick on. I mastered the art of intimidation with my looks alone. Crazy blue hair, wild blue eyes and a manic grin full of white teeth will help with that.

"_Where'd you get the cuts, Grimmjow? There was blood in the sink again. Another fight? Should I be expecting another phone call?"_

_I rubbed at my face, feeling numb and hardly able to register the evening sun shining in my eyes as the forced medication began taking affect. "No." I told him, slipping up, forgetting how bad of an idea that was. "but ya wouldn't believe me anyway."_

_I heard the crack of his hand connecting before I realized he had even hit me. My jaw hurt but the tile of the kitchen floor was cool against it as I listened to his retreating footsteps. My glacial colored eyes slowly widened in terror as that black, shadowy bastard started creeping in along the edges of my vision. Tonight would not be a good night and tomorrow morning would only reveal more blood and pills._

I got a job, saved up money so that I could move out as soon as I graduated. I could have went to college, I had a decent GPA, good enough to get into the local schools anyway. But I didn't want to go. It would have just been another four years of harassment and fighting because I was a little different. My father was disappointed. I didn't care. I would never care, couldn't have even if I wanted to. But wasn't that what normal was? He wanted this, didn't he? I would have thought he'd be happy by now.

My things, what little I owned and could call my own, were packed before my father returned from work. The last day of my senior year, he walked through the front door as I was walking out. With a couple bags slung over one broad shoulder, I hailed a cab, feeling the man's glare drill into me from behind. I never gave him a backward glance nor my new address and he never came looking for me.

I ended up in a decent little, one bedroom apartment on the edge of town. It was an old building but it was clean and well maintained. It was far enough away from everyone that I didn't draw attention to myself and close enough that I could walk to work. I kept to myself and my neighbors left me alone. The land lord let me pick up doing some of the maintenance work around the place, replacing locks, fixing furnaces, that sort of thing. She didn't pay me, but she lessened the rent so it was fine.

With no one around to force pills down my throat, it took no time at all for me to toss the bottle in a drawer and forget about them. But I kept them, couldn't flush them like I should have. They were nothing but a drug to dull me, proof that there was something wrong with me, that I wasn't normal, yet for some reason I still have that little bottle. After years of being drugged up and numbed, as much as I loathed the medication I knew I didn't need, some part of me was afraid to just throw them away. So I kept them, even though just thinking about taking them made my stomach churn and usually ended in a new hole in the wall that I'd have to fix.

Tch. What the hell is normal, anyway?

Strangely enough, with my mind cleared of the numbing effects from the medication, that shadowy thing disappeared, like it knew I was freed from my indifferent haze. It flitted around in the corners for a few weeks, watching, observing and waiting, but never drew near. Eventually it stopped showing up altogether. I no longer woke up with cuts and bruises, no more random injuries that I couldn't remember getting. But it wouldn't last forever, that would have been too normal.

I learned the hard way that certain objects could hold memories and that if those memories were strong enough, I could feel them, see them. Touching things, coming into contact with older furniture or an old picture would send lightening through my skull. It didn't last long, not even long enough for me to react to it and therefore anyone around wouldn't have noticed anything more than a pause in whatever I had been doing. But in that split second, I would feel like my mind was being torn apart. Images would flash through my mind, behind my eyes; ghostly figures replaying their loop as if a film was being rewound and replayed over and over and over.

I didn't know it at first, but I do know. Even through all the drugs that kept me tied down and dulled up, whatever was wrong with me kept getting stronger. I just couldn't tell, couldn't care enough to take notice.

After realizing what triggered these things, these visions or memories or whatever, I quickly got rid of half the old furniture the lady that had lived in the apartment before me had left behind. Now my place is pretty bare, but it did the trick and I haven't had any problems since.

But all that would change. Whatever was wrong with me kept getting stronger, and so did the things around me, the specters and ghosts, the shadowy creature that lurked in my childhood nightmares. I would soon find out that just because it wasn't showing it's self anymore, didn't mean that it wasn't there. It watched and it grew stronger, feeding off my energy and bidding it's time. It was an ageless thing, a ghost and a demon, a creature both alive and dead. It knew what it wanted and it knew how to get it, all it had to do was wait in the shadows.

The medication wouldn't make it go away and I couldn't swallow shadows. All I could do was wait with it.

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**So... Any thoughts? Should I continue this? **

**And I have a question for you~ Do you believe in the paranormal?  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone that read the first chapter, the support is much appreciated! I think I'm starting to enjoy the challenge that is writing in first person, it's a nice a change :D And wow, I just realized how fast paced this story is probably going to feel, I hope no one minds~ ^^;**

**Anyway, I'll shut up now. Enjoy~!**

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Weeks came and went. I think I rearranged my new apartment at least a dozen times. Not because I really cared, just because I was bored. I didn't really have any hobbies, I hadn't had time nor the desire to pick up anything while I was in school, aside from learning to fight and weight lifting anyway. I still didn't do well at making friends and now that my head was clear for the first time in years I really didn't know what to do with all the free time I realized I had.

So I went to the gym on occasion and I picked up an extra shift, worked my days away and spent my evenings wondering around town or doing errands for the landlord. Ignoring most of the specters became easier now that none of them seemed to realize I was there and I had figured out what kind of things were ok to touch and what wasn't. I only really had issues with one entity; this really annoying jackass that kept trying to get me to talk to it.

Everyday without fail, didn't matter if it was raining or sunny, if it was dark or in the middle of the day. "Hey, hey, mister! You can see me, can't you?"

It never followed me, like it was tied to that little antique shop it always sat in front of. I guess that makes sense, it was probably affixed to something old inside. Guess someone would get a surprise when they bought whatever it was.

I'd stuff my hands in my pockets and hunch my shoulders over, surly scaring the shit out of anyone that happened to be walking near by. I'm sure they thought I was crazy when I growled under my breath and glared sideways at the ghost that no one else could see. I'm a pretty big guy, intimidation is one of my specialties on a good day, but when I try I can be down right frightening. Finally, after about a week of ignoring it's yelling, I got fed up with how persistent it was. I can only take so much before my temper gets the better of me. It was actually pretty surprising that it took a week.

"What the fuck do you want? Leave me alone." I growled at it, lip curling in my anger as I continued walking. Everyone on the fairly crowed main street shied away from the weird guy talking to himself but I was pretty used to it, I'd gotten over letting that sort of thing bother me long ago. What I wasn't expecting was the other weird kid.

"No need to be rude to him." A slight, polite smile adorned his boyish features as he spoke to me. He had to be around my age, but he didn't quite look it. Or maybe I just looked older than fresh out of high school. He was smaller and less buff than I, a little shorter and more wiry. His hair was just as bright though, it was spiked up in a messy, just got up way, like he had given up trying to do anything with it but it worked for him. Kind of cute, really, but like I said; I didn't do the whole socializing thing.

I curled my lip at him and continued on my way until his statement settled in. I'd never met someone who could see the things I could. "Wait." I froze mid step and turned about to look at him, pin him with my permanently angry gaze and furrowed brow, though the frown on my lips was more out of surprise and slight confusion than anger. "You can see it too...?"

The kid just flashed me a handsome smile over his shoulder while he disappeared into the little shop, the ghost following right behind. "Tch. Whatever." I grumbled to myself, turning to continue on my way home.

I never did see that kid again, nor the ghost. I guess he must have bought whatever the thing was attached to or found a way to set it free. He must have had more of a heart than I do, or maybe just a different outlook on things. He could see, talk to, feel these...things but he hadn't been afraid. No one looked at him like he was crazy, he didn't look like he thought he was crazy. He looked happy, like he'd never had a bad experience. He was, for all intents and purposes, normal in a way I was not.

My days continued on, just as boring as ever only now I didn't have an annoying entity shouting for my attention whenever I walked up town. It was nice, quiet, peaceful. People left me alone and I was lucky enough that I very rarely ran into anyone I had gone to school with. No one knew who I was, had never heard the strange rumors about my supposed mental condition and what it did to me or about the fights and my violent streak. They jut left me alone, went about their business while I went about mine.

The people that lived in the same apartment building as me learned to mostly leave me alone. They figured out that I preferred to stick to myself. Eventually I got to know them pretty well really, just from seeing them and of course from fixing whatever they broke when the landlord would call me. They were friendly enough, cordial, said hello to me when I passed them in the hall or outside. When they introduced themselves I returned the favor, but I didn't do the hand shake thing and I gave them my first name because I didn't want to be associated with my father. I didn't talk much and they didn't push it. It was like most of them could sense that I was different, that something was a little off with me, that something was wrong, but they didn't look at me like I was crazy so it didn't matter.

It was just me. No one to force unnecessary medication down my throat, no drugs to make me lose myself. Just me and my own little world and I was actually happy, the happiest I could ever remember being at least.

One day, all my relative peace would end. Things would get ugly just when I was finally getting used to an average life. Just when I finally stopped jumping at every shadow, just when I no longer hesitated to turn a corner or walk down a hallway. Just when I was starting to feel normal.

It wasn't like in those cheesy horror films; no lighting flashed outside, no rain pelted down on my windows, no baby cried in the background. And nothing happened all at once, it didn't just jump out at me. It was gradual, like it had been when I was young, like it wasn't in a hurry and had all the time in the world. Maybe it did.

I didn't even notice it at first. My mind was so conditioned to seeing and ignoring the things that shouldn't be there that I honestly couldn't tell you when it first started happening again. The first thing I noticed was that the few benign entities that had sort of gathered around the apartment complex, the ones I had grown used to and knew didn't know I was there, the ones that just replayed on their endless loops disappeared. Whether they were driven away or all out vanished I have no idea. Maybe the fled, or maybe they were consumed, their energy feeding what was to come.

It happened over a period of several days at least, maybe a week or more; gradual. Then the shadows came back, darting around corners and hovering in darkened door ways. Always just out of sight. They watched me, studied me and those around me. But no one else could see them, feel them, so they left my neighbors alone. They were drawn to me, to my energy and my abilities and the attention I could give them, but they never got close. They were shy almost; timid or maybe just testing the waters, seeing if I was still clear headed or if I had been drugged up again. They never let me look at them, always staying on the edge of my vision. If I tried to look at them, which I'll admit wasn't often, they disappeared, scattered, like smoke or maybe just like shadows are meant to.

Just when I was beginning to feel normal, I started to question my sanity again. Suddenly I was wondering if maybe I really did need those pills my father had been shoving down my throat. I still had them, hidden at the back of a drawer in my kitchen, out of sight but still there in the back of my mind to gnaw away at me even though I wasn't taking them, wasn't under their numbing effects.

One night the shadows seemed more persistent, like they were growing bolder, or maybe it had just been my imagination, maybe I really was seeing things. Either way, they seemed real, I knew they were real. They had to be and I nearly forced myself to take the medication. Wouldn't my father have been proud? But I didn't do it, I couldn't. The very thought made me sick to my stomach and sick with myself; all those times I had fought against them, nearly passing out or desperately fighting the man forcing them on me. All the pathetic tears I had shed, the blood, the bruising and the cool tile floor. The shadowy creature; my very own, personal demon that had fed off my fogged up state. I screamed, yelled my anger and probably woke up my neighbors. I got pissed off at myself, at the world, at everything that was normal. I woke up the next morning with a nice new whole in my wall and bloody knuckles, the bottle thrown across the room to roll behind my couch, but my mind was clear enough to fix the wall and the bottle ended up back in it's drawer, unopened.

I started getting paranoid, started having nightmares. I found myself nearly afraid to fall asleep again, afraid that it would come back. I guess I should have realized that was it's doing; the paranoia and all the bodiless shadows floating around. I would lay awake at night, staring at nothing in particular and not wanting to see anything, praying to a god I didn't believe in, afraid that if I fell asleep, one of these days I'd wake up with more cuts, more wounds, more blood, all of which I knew would be gone by the end of that day, no matter how bad they had been. I would be crazy again, the weird kid that was seeing things, hallucinations and visions. Something would be wrong with me again and I knew there was nothing wrong with me.

Just like in high school, I'd force myself to stay awake for as long as I could. I knew it was pointless, knew it wouldn't solve anything, I just couldn't sleep. I couldn't. I stayed up for days on end, busying myself at work to the point where my boss started asking questions and noticing my lack of proper sleep. When I wasn't working, I worked out, jogged, walked the streets, anything to keep me up and awake and away from my apartment, anything to keep me normal and sane. At nights I'd turn my stereo up loud enough to nearly shake the floor, just the base, I had no desire to draw quiet that much attention to myself. I'd chug energy drinks and walk circles around my living room with every light in the apartment on while pondering about my sanity, the sanity I seemed to be loosing again. Anything to stay awake.

All the lights didn't scare the entities away, didn't hide them or force them to retreat. It didn't make them any more visible either though and it certainly did nothing to help my wavering state of mind. I could damn near feel my sanity slipping through my fingers and the worst part about it was; I knew I was doing it to myself and I couldn't help it.

But again, just like before, the body and mind can only take so much abuse before they shut down and take what they need. I was lucky I didn't break something or hurt myself when everything shut down on me. And shut down it did. I passed out, pretty much where I had been walking circles in my living room, wearing tracks in my ugly, beige carpet. I don't even remember laying down at all, or sitting or anything. And while I laid on the floor of my apartment, I dreamed. I think it was a dream, maybe it was real, maybe another vision. While darkness closed in around me and my sleep deprived mind, behind closed eye lids, it wasn't darkness that I was seeing, at least not that I could remember. I don't know what it was, but it was bright. All white, no shadows. Everything was white, colorless. It should have been comforting, somewhere where my very real demons couldn't get to me, somewhere where there were no shadows for them to lurk in.

Something about it was comforting, but then, something about it wasn't. I don't know how to describe it, like I knew it wasn't real but I really wanted to believe it was. The all white, the blank void it's self wasn't comforting, but there was that undercurrent to it; something...protective? Maybe. Certainly aggressive.

I woke up sore and stiff; my neck, my joints, my back. I woke up feeling like shit and feeling like I was an idiot that deserved every bit of that soreness. I peeled myself from the floor, as tired and worn out as I had been before I had passed out, and dragged myself to the bathroom, hardly even realizing I was now shirtless when I knew I had fallen asleep fully clothed. I stripped out of yesterday's jeans and boxers, dropping the garments on the tiled floor of my little bathroom, the buckle of my belt ringing loudly in the all too silent space. Then I dragged myself back to the living room to find my shirt half way folded on the arm of the couch. It still didn't sink in. I tossed it on the floor with the rest of my dirty clothes and turned on the shower, internally snarling at myself for how sore I was and how annoying it was just to bend over. It felt like my spine was ready to shred my flesh and climb it's way out. The shower quickly filled the room with steam that helped clear my senses and already made me feel better, if only a little. I climbed into the shower, let the near scalding water run over my face and through my unruly hair, let it wake me up and ease the stiffness.

After a few seconds of enjoying the warmth and peaceful quiet that only comes with a good hot shower, I turned my back to the spray and nearly screamed as hot water tore through the deep gash following my spine. Cursing and jumping away from the spray, I slid to my ass on the wet base of the bathtub, eyes wide as I stared at the water falling from the shower head, expecting to see something standing there. But it was just the wall of the shower, a few bottles of shampoo and soap lining one of those shower racks. I was alone in my bathroom, in my apartment. It took me a minute to realize the water that still dripped from my body was tinted red with saturated blood. My blood. Blood from a cut that I hadn't had before I had fallen asleep and couldn't remember getting.

I stared in horror, trembling and freezing even as the hot water filled the room with hot air, sitting on the smooth floor of the tub watching as my blood swirled down the drain with the water. But it was only the beginning, it would only get worse.

Nearly an hour later, on shaking legs that had gone numb, I pulled myself up and stumbled from the shower, not bothering to turn the water off or get dressed. I called my boss and told him I wasn't feeling well, I wouldn't be in today. He must have heard it in my normally deep and rumbling voice, must have known that something was very very wrong. He didn't question it, told me it was fine and that he hoped I felt better soon. It was the first time since getting that job before I had graduated high school that I had missed a day.

After disconnecting the call, I let the phone slip through my slack fingers to land on the floor of the little hallway with a dull thud. A few minutes and a few deep breaths later, I pulled myself together and stalked around the door way and back into the bathroom. I shut the now frigid running water off and stared at my reflection in the mirror for a moment, wondering if I would really find anything at all, wondering if it was just my imagination. Wondering if he, if my father had been right all those times.

But when I turned around to look at the mirror over my shoulder, there it was; the gash I had felt while in the shower. It wasn't as horrendous as I thought, it wasn't wide and open and raw or gory and disgusting. It ran in a narrow, perfectly straight line from between my shoulder blades, followed down the curve of my spine and ended at my lower back, nearly my waist line. The truly terrifying thing was how clean it was. If it had been open and bleeding like in a horror movie it would have been easier to deal with, would felt more real and more fake at the same time. It would have been something my mind had expected and would have accepted. But it was too clean, too perfect and precise, like it had been made by a blade that had been nearly too sharp; surgical scalpel sharp with precision to match. It was nearly too narrow and fine to even bleed.

If I hadn't felt the hot water sluicing through it, I never would have believed how deep it was just from peer at it through the little mirror hanging above the bathroom sink. It should have cut through muscle, tore tendons and ligaments and severed nerves. It should have scraped along bone and sent me to the hospital. I should have been laying in agony on a gurney while some doctor stitched and stapled me up and wondered at what the hell I had done. But like everything else about me; it wasn't normal. It wasn't a cut caused by a normal blade, it didn't do the damage one would have either. It hurt, it burned and it was scary as hell but it would be gone by the end of the day, leaving me to wonder if it had ever really been there in the first place.

But I knew it had been real, the burn and sting had been real. The fear had been and the dried, watered down blood speckling the bottom of my tub was all too real. I wasn't crazy and this was really happening. It would only continue to get stronger and I didn't know how to stop feeding it.

Later that night, I tried to force myself to sleep. I was dead tired, dragging my feet just trying to walk down the hall and probably looking as haunted as I felt. I needed the rest, my mind and my body desperately needed a break from the abuse I had put them through. I couldn't focus on anything yet I couldn't get my mind to quit racing at the same time. I laid in bed, waiting for something to happen and knowing that nothing would until I fell asleep.

I ended up curled on my side, feeling myself slowly relax as the haze of exhaustion took over and my vision blurred with fatigue. The dull throb that accompanied the healing cut that shouldn't have been or wasn't there was just enough to keep me anchored to the waking world for a while. I don't know how long I laid there but as much to my horror as to my relief, I fell asleep eventually.

This time, it wasn't a blank void that I gazed upon behind my closed eyes. I dreamt of shadowy creatures and demons that preyed on the living as well as the dead, of things that weren't real and yet dealt damage and pain and caused mayhem. Things that thrived on the energy of others, on the fear they created, consuming it like the sweetest of honeys. I dreamt of things that couldn't be stopped by any drug, of things that no one but me could see. Chaos and darkness ruled over my dreamscape; confusing, harsh, cruel. An overwhelming sense of dread filled my sleeping mind as the things, my personal monsters, closed in on me to reap what they had laid claim too when I was but a child. Then all pulsed white, blank. A colorless void once more that erased the cruel shadows and I bolted upright in my bed with enough force to nearly fall from the mattress.

Heart attempting to break my ribcage, I frantically check myself over and scoured the sheets for fresh blood. Nothing. The cut I had gained earlier that morning was healed and no new wounds had appeared, not a mark I couldn't remember getting, not a scratch nor bruise, nothing at all. I felt like they were toying with me, like it was trying to make me lose whatever tentative grasp I had over myself or drive me to pull that little bottle out of the drawer again and weaken myself until I was an easy target, my mind easy prey.

I knew it had been there, in my room and hovering near by, hovering over the bed while I slept. It had watched me, studied me while I thrashed about with the nightmare it fed me and had poisoned me with. I could feel it, feel it's lingering presence and intangible, shadowy aura. Something deep inside me, in my head, told me it had been near by, and that it had been interrupted. It wasn't happy about it and I could very nearly feel it's inhuman rage.

I threw the sheets off myself, letting them fall to the floor in a tangled mess with the rest of the blankets I had apparently kicked off while I slept. Wearing nothing but my boxers, I climbed from my bed and rushed from the room, not bothering with the lights. I didn't need them to navigate my little apartment and I knew they wouldn't help me see what was coming after me, nor scare it away.

After rushing through the door way and out into the hall, I forced my steps into a normal, calm pace. I practiced what I had learned in school; too look calm and confident even while I was internally freaking out. It wasn't for anyone, it was a show to help fool myself. I didn't know how to respond so I did what I do best; I lied and faked my way through, acted normal. Only there was no one else to lie too, no one I needed to put up that front for, so I lied only to myself.

By the time I made it to the kitchen, I had quit shaking and looking like I was ready to piss myself. The tile was cool on my bare feet and I grabbed a glass from the stack of drying dishes on the counter, turning on the tap to pour myself a glass of water. I took a sip, the liquid cool and wonderful going down my parched throat. I didn't know I was about to get one of the biggest shocks of my young life.

This close to the edge of the city, you couldn't hear most of the noise associated with the crowds and nightlife of such a place. No sirens screamed in the distance, no lively clubs or anything attracted people. The night was quiet and undisturbed. It was late enough that none of my neighbors were awake and the complex slept on. I was probably the only one awake at such an odd hour but that gave me the peace to feel that I was alone, just me once again; me and my thoughts and the things that shouldn't be seen.

I turned to lean back against the edge of the counter, the sink right behind me, my glass in hand and looked about the darkened room briefly, unable to help my paranoia. The shadows I had been looking for were no where to be seen, but then I didn't even know if I should have been expecting to see them since I was looking for them or if they would hide from me, just to fuck with me like usual. I ran a hand back through my hair and took a deep breath, blowing out a sigh of slight annoyance at myself for my own cowardice before taking another sip of my water and letting my piercing gaze swing slowly back in front of me, to the opposite side of my little kitchen, intent on calming down and trying to go back to sleep in the hopes that I would be able to go back to work the next day.

It wasn't until something broke the unrelenting darkness that I realized I wasn't quite as alone as I had thought and hoped. White, nearly glowing in it's pure intensity, broke what should have only been black, empty darkness. The shattering of my glass hardly registered as I automatically tried to step back in my surprise, only succeeding in bumping into the counter at my back and slipping in the spilled water.

I stared wide eyed into the reflective surface of the little window on the oven door, knees pulled up and bare feet slipping on the smooth tile beneath me as I scrambled for purchase, frozen in place but unable to quit trying nonetheless. The face staring back at me was not what it should have been, was not my own. Instead of tanned, angular features and wild, sky blue hair, matched by even bluer eyes, a colorless face stared back at me; liquid fire swam in a sea of black, his eyes being the only color to the specter. Long, ashen hair flowed to disappear where the window was replaced by the metal of the oven door. A wide, amused smirk seemed to eat his face as he stared at me, studied me.

I choked on the air I was trying desperately to supply my lungs with as I stared at the specter, the reflection of another man looking back at me. I blinked back the shocked tears that threatened to blur my vision and the image was gone, replaced by the saturated image of my horror stricken features. I rocketed to my feet, nearly tripping over myself as I pushed my bare back into the edge of the counter, probably looking as insane as I felt at the moment. I searched out the specter; every shadow in the darkened room, every reflective surface my kitchen housed, but I found nothing, no hint that the appertain had been there at all, that it hadn't just been in my head.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and leaned back, the cool granite of the counter top helping, if only slightly, to reground me and force back my surprise. Big hands clasped on the edge of the solid counter to help keep my shaking legs under me, I hung me head forward, eyes still closed and mind still reeling.

It had been so long. Months had passed since the last time I had seen something that was so clear, so obvious, something that actually looked so startlingly...solid. Something that could see me as clearly as I could see it. Sure, I had been seeing those shadowy bastards, but they always hid at the edges of my vision and would scatter if I tried to get a real look. They were always intangible and almost opaque, like I could still see what sat behind them. This, however... It was too real and I didn't know which I was more afraid of.

The vision had taken me by surprise. There had been no trigger like there normally was for something so lifelike, I hadn't touched anything or anyone, only the things I was surrounded by everyday. And I had gone out of my way to insure the things in my home had come without attachments.

I didn't know how to react, didn't know what to think, but strangely enough and much to my own surprise, after the initial shock of the vision wore off, I wasn't left with the same fear as when confronted by the hulking, dark mass of a thing, the less than human creature that left me with marks and reminders of it's presence. This ghost, this entity, had shown it's self openly and let me know that it was there. He hadn't flitted about and toyed with my sense of sanity. Something about that was almost welcome in comparison, like he was solid and real even though I knew he shouldn't have been.

He was gone as quickly as he had appeared, yet I could still see that pale face when I closed my eyes, a way to identify him from the strange and malevolent feeling shadows that lurked around me. I almost couldn't bring myself to fear those strange, fiery eyes or the smirk that had spread across his snowy lips as he watched my reaction. Unknown to me at the time, I would soon come to learn of what and whom the pale specter had been, of what he was capable of. His pale complexion would become a symbol; colorless, blank. All white.

No shadows.

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**Any thoughts? Let me know what you think please~  
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	3. Chapter 3

**Having tons of fun with this story~ Hope you guys are as well :'D  
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**Enjoy~  
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The rest of that night had been spent in an exhausted, dead to the world and blessedly dreamless sleep. I awoke the next morning in an odd sort of dazed state. I was awake and functioning, mostly caught up on the sleep I had so desperately needed, yet at the same time it made it all feel like a dream. Like everything that had happened the day before and had continued into the night had been some sort of horrible nightmare. Maybe it was. My grasp on my sanity and the reality around me had never felt so tenuous and I almost wished I could lay back down in my bed and wake up to find out the past several days hadn't happened, maybe I'd be lucky enough to wake up and realize that the past five years had just been a dream. I wanted to wake up and find out that I really was normal. How pathetic.

I brushed my teeth and readied for work mechanically, too busy trying to decide if it had been real or not, if the vision from the night before had been a dream or a hallucination or if it had really happened. Hardly even comprehending what I was doing, I had managed to walk to work, hands stuffed into the pockets of my grease stained jeans, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon and the streets still empty. I arrived early, but then I usually did and the opening manager had learned to leave the door unlocked when he got there rather than just letting himself in even though we didn't open for another hour.

When I walked through the front door, headed straight for the break room to change into a company issue, oil stained shirt, my boss looked up from some of his paper work, surprise crossing his face at seeing me after I had made such a hasty phone call yesterday. He had always been strangely intuitive and accepting. I always wondered if it was because he had children of his own. Maybe he was what a normal father was supposed to be like.

"Feeling better, Grimmjow?" He asked, almost looking concerned. Almost. Could he tell I wasn't ok? Could he tell that I wasn't normal, that there was something wrong with me? Surely he hadn't heard the rumors, hadn't learned that was clinically crazy enough to be prescribed medication and drugs to try to fix me, pills that I had stopped taking.

"Yeah, fine." I told him, my voice rough, horse and a quiet growl while I avoided eye contact and hardly paused. That was pretty typical for me though, to be quiet and not really say much, to keep to myself. It had never been a problem at my job, I was there to work, after all, not talk and I was lucky enough that I was never stationed at the front desk and register so I rarely had to interact with the customers. My boss didn't ask any more questions, much to my relief, and I clocked in and got to work.

The day was pretty typical, sped by fairly quickly though not too quick. The shadows that haunted my waking and dreaming world stayed mostly hidden, like they didn't like crowds or something. How ironic was that? They didn't like to be around a bunch of random people anymore than I did. But they had all the time in the world to torment me, they could lay in wait until I left my place of work, until I was alone and they couldn't be interrupted again. They could wait until they had me all to themselves before they tore down my defenses and began toying with me again.

Half way through the day, I took the break that's always offered to me that I usually skip. Again, my boss gave me that look like he was trying to figure something out. You know, where the person's gaze lingers on you just a little too long and you can see it in their eyes that they want to say something but you know they wont? I just looked at him from where I sat in a folding chair until he shook his head slightly and walked away, looking a little confused. I don't know what he was looking for and don't think he found it if he even knew what it was. I guess it didn't really matter either way.

As I sat there, scrubbing a hand down my face once and suddenly feeling like I had been wrong about getting enough sleep the night before, a familiar voice broke through my thoughts. The speaker had been addressing my boss, the owner of the shop I worked in, but I looked up anyways. I shouldn't have. I should have sat still, not moved and been patient until recognition dawned and I would have realized who it was, then I could have got up and walked away before he had a chance to see me. There were only two people that I could think of that would have been worse to run into at that moment; on was my father and the other was the man that had been telling him to keep drugged up all those years.

I looked up to see my boss talking to a guy that I had gone to high school with, one of the guys that always seemed to think I was a fun little distraction to torment. Since I was at work, there was nothing either of us could have done, but it was bad enough to draw the unnecessary attention to myself and now that jackass knew where I worked and that could only cause problems later on. I had enough of those already and more on the way.

A rumbling growl left my throat on instinct, my bad temper quick to show it's self as the guy talked with my boss. The deep reverberation was enough to draw his attention. I wasn't a very average looking guy, I stood out in a crowd. There aren't too many people running around with wild blue hair and graduation had only been maybe a couple months or so ago. So it took him no time at all to remember me. When his eyes landed on me, a cruel grin spread across his face and I curled my lip at him.

While murderous rage simmered in my eyes and bore holes through the guy's head, I let a cocky, shit eating grin spread across my face to match his, white teeth showing as I stuffed my hands in my pockets. It was the same grin that I always wore, one of intimidation and maddening glee. It was a dare and a challenge. Would this guy try to pull the same stunts he had during school? Would he try to pick on the weird kid or beat me up again? I almost hoped he would. I hoped he gave me a reason to beat his face into the pavement and take out some of the anger I seemed to have a sudden abundance of.

My boss looked back at me, more of that hardly concealed concern showing on his face before he looked back to his customer. I didn't like that concern, didn't need it. I couldn't tell if he was worried about me or for me; worried about his shop and his customers, his reputation or if he was genuinely afraid that there was something going on that I couldn't deal with, that I needed help with. I didn't understand his concern and so I ignored it, loathed it.

After a few minutes, the guy left and my boss finished filling out some forms before approaching me. I watched as something hardened in his normally friendly and soft eyes; resolve.

"That a friend of yours?" He asked conversationally enough. I thought he was just curious. I wasn't really used to dealing with people much and aside from my father before I had moved out, my boss was probably the person I spent the most time around so I didn't mind talking to him too much and he had learned when it was ok to and when I should be left alone.

"No." I knew there was more he wanted to know though, something that he wanted to ask. Maybe he felt awkward and wasn't sure how to approach the subject of whatever he really wanted but I knew he wouldn't drop it this time.

He sighed and looked directly at me, more of that resolve showing in his eyes and I knew he had finally made up his mind. What he asked me next wasn't what I had been expecting. "Grimmjow... Do... Do you need help? Do you have a problem?"

I was throughly confused at first. I knew he couldn't have known about the things that were haunting me, I knew he couldn't know about the shadows and the ghosts, the cuts and blood or the medication. Then it hit me; medication, pills, drugs. And I got angry. He was talking about drugs. He was asking me if I had a drug addiction and the accusation made rage boil through my veins. After years of being forcefully drugged up, of being stuck in an indifferent haze that dulled my senses and left me vulnerable...and he really thought I would ever touch something like that again. I didn't know how he had come to think something like that, nor did I know how to react. I got mad and my searing temper showed in every hard line of muscle on my body as I tensed up and grit my teeth.

But he had children of his own; a teenage son and daughter I think. He saw the anger and knew it for what it was and he realized he had offended me with such nonsense before I had the chance to blow up and do something stupid, something I would surely regret. His eyes widened and he apologized, clapping his hand over my shoulder in what I guessed was probably a fatherly and friendly way.

I winced slightly, flinching away from the touch even though it didn't trigger any unwanted visions nor hurt and he quickly retracted his hand. Something flashed through his features. He was trying hard to read me, trying to figure out what about me was so different, what had happened to me. But he would never know, no matter how long he thought about it he would have never been able to guess and I had no plans to tell him about it.

"I'm sorry, Grimmjow...I just wanted to be sure..." I know what was supposed be left unsaid. I know what he wanted to add to the end of his words. 'I'm just worried about you' he could see that something was very wrong, had heard it yesterday when I had called off, but he didn't say it, he didn't need to. He was intuitive, but so was I when I tried, though it was strange to think that someone actually worried for me.

I shook my head, dismissing the whole event and my thoughts, clearing my head and the confusion trying to weed it's way in. "Don't worry about it." I told him, mumbled in my rough, grating voice. "It's fine." There's nothing wrong with me.

"We're going to be pretty slow today." He said after a few seconds of silence. "Why don't you go home early and get some rest? You look like you need it." It was a suggestion more than a question. He was telling me to leave, throwing me out but I knew that's not really what he was trying to do. He was just worried, I think. I don't know. What I did know is that he was right about me needing the sleep. But I wouldn't be getting that sleep, at least not for a while.

I shrugged before glancing around the shop and out the window toward the nearly empty streets. The overcast sky promised rain even though it was still warm out, but we were always slow on rainy days. "Ok." I crossed to the break room and stripped out of my oil stained shirt, hardly caring if anyone happened to peek back there and see me. I had nothing to hide, nothing they could see anyway. Most of my scars were in my head, in my mind. After changing back into my clean shirt, a shirt that wouldn't stay clean for much longer, I walked back out toward the front of the shop and the door.

"If ya get busy call me." I told my boss over my shoulder as I clocked out and left, the heavy glass door swinging shut slowly behind me. I wouldn't be getting a call that day, and even if I had, I wouldn't have been in any position to answer it. My phone wouldn't go off until the day after next, when I failed to show up for work, but again I wouldn't be able to answer it. I wouldn't be seeing my boss, wouldn't be seeing anyone, in several days and I wouldn't be back to work in even longer.

The walk back to my place usually took about twenty minutes, I could jog it in half that and if it started raining that's what I would have done, but for the time being at least I figured I would drag it out. The less time I spent in my apartment the better, a complete contradiction to catching up on the sleep I had spent days depriving myself of and got sent home for.

I only made it a few roads down when a figure leaning against the side of a building caught my attention and halted me in my tracks. It seemed for once, things were actually going in my favor. For now at least.

He looked up when my continued footsteps failed to reach him and that wide grin was back on his face. One of his old friends stepped out from the alley, a matching grin on his face and as the two approached me with even, measured but confident steps, I let my own grin spread to match.

"What's up, Jaegerjaquez?" The one called to me in a sarcastically friendly voice. "Haven't seen you in a while."

Stuck in the nightmare that was my life I was powerless, I couldn't fight against the shadows that threatened me and tormented me. The specters that shouldn't have been there were immune to all that I could do and they made it known, but this... I could deal with this. We weren't in high school anymore, and this wasn't a random hallway or locker room, but that didn't matter, not to me and it didn't seem it mattered to them either. Old habits die hard, but they would learn.

I could see that they weren't afraid of me like they should have been, but that was fine. One didn't need to be afraid to get hurt.

I let my grin widen, feeling the air virtually tingle with pent up rage that I was all too happy to release. This was just what I needed and even if I did get hurt, at least it would still be there in the morning. There would be proof that something had happened, I wouldn't be crazy.

They wasted no time and just like in high school, one came at me while the other hung back to cheer his buddy on. Too bad that wouldn't work for them anymore. They quickly found that out as my laughter, tinted with an unnatural and not so normal joy, filled the streets and I let loose, finally feeling like I had control over something for the first time in years. I ducked below what would have been a hard right hook, sending a shot back to the man's stomach.

As he doubled over, struggling for the air I knocked from his lungs, his buddy must have realized their error in coming at me one at a time and decided it was time to come to his friend's rescue. The crunch of my fist colliding with the second guy's face had my grin widening even further, just like that of my pale visitor from the night before. The memory struck me as odd and a little confusing and I hesitated as his gold on black eyes flashed in my mind's eye, that smirking grin stretching pale features. Had his eyes really been colored like that?

The first guy took advantage of my distraction, not that I could blame him. I would have been beating his ass if he hadn't, but it would have been smarter for them to take off while they had the chance. He tackled me to the ground, an indignant and angered yell escaping as he used all his strength to do it. The following shot to my ribs hurt like hell but it only fueled my anger and would leave nothing but a bruise behind. This was a pain I could understand, damage I could fight back against.

I threw the guy off me, snarling and growling like an animal, making sure to get in at least one good shot while I was doing so when the sound of a breaking bottle snapped my attention back to the second man. Before I could react, glass shredded the front of my shirt, taking a few too many layers of flesh with it. I snarled a curse and jumped back even as I grabbed hold of the guy's wrist to keep the dangerous bottle away from me. I twisted and wrenched his arm around until he dropped the dirty, broken bottle and yelped, cartilage popping as it neared the limit of it's flexibility.

As what was left of the bottle shattered against the pavement, the first man retrieved his buddy from my grasp, the task only taking a push to my shredded and painful front to make me release him. They took off, the one with a broken nose looking back over his shoulder to see if I would pursue them, blood coloring the lower half of his face. I probably would have tried, chased them down and finished breaking the other guy's face too, but the first step in their direction had pain flashing across my chest and I looked down to see the front of my once clean shirt soaked through with my blood.

Panting, I sneered in their direction until they rounded a corner and were out of sight, yelling something about freaks and mental asylums, before I headed back toward my apartment, an arm wrapped around my abdomen and keeping the ripped pieces of my shirt pressed against it to help stem the blood flow.

By the time I got there, the wound had mostly stopped bleeding. I peeled my ruined shirt off, the drying blood sticky, and stumbled into the bathroom. I turned on the sink to let the basin fill with warm water as I looked myself over in the mirror. The gash wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. It wasn't overly deep and after a few minutes of inspection, I only found one piece of glass that had been left behind by the bottle and stayed in my flesh. It would heal and be fine if I kept it clean and after all the fights I had been in through out my life, I knew my way around a wound pretty well. It probably would have been better to find a way to the hospital and get it stitched up, but I really didn't want to deal with the questions that would surely follow, so I didn't go and decided I'd give it a few days and see how it started healing.

It wouldn't matter soon anyway. My luck wouldn't hold out for that long and I'd be making a trip to the hospital sooner than I had anticipated.

I finished cleaning out the gash. Using gauze from the stash I always kept readily available and stocked, another habit I had picked up in high school, I dressed the injury and wondered off to find a tight fitting tank top to pull on over the wrappings and my bare torso. All the while I navigated my small apartment, I let my eyes roam over every shadow, every corner, every reflective surface. Anything that I could even imagine might house something I didn't want to see.

Strangely, the place seemed truly empty for once and I made my way back toward the front to plop down on my couch. It only took a few minutes for my eyes to start feeling heavy and my body to start relaxing, begging me for sleep it still desperately needed. The fight certainly hadn't helped my already fatigued state but I couldn't quite bring myself to give in to that demand just yet. The fight, even as quick as it had been, had helped with my nerves, let me get some of the pent up aggression and frustration at my situation out but now that I sat in my apartment alone, I couldn't help but feel paranoid again, like I wasn't really as alone as I thought. It felt like I was being watched, like something would just step out of the shadows at any moment or wait until I fell asleep to come to me. I didn't like feeling helpless, didn't like feeling crazy.

As I laid there on my couch, half asleep and half awake, I listened to the quiet sounds of my apartment, the barely audible creaks and groans of an old building. My breathing evened out, I could feel it as sleep tugged at my mind and tried to convince me that I would be fine since it was still daylight out, overcast and a little cloudy, but day nonetheless. It was a childish thought and hope, something that I had once believed when I was young, before I had been proven wrong. The creatures, the things that were better suited for lurking nightmares didn't seem to mind the daylight. They didn't discriminate against the night or the sun.

A watery, distorted chuckle had my blue eyes snapping open to stare at nothing but an empty room. I held my breath as I looked around, almost afraid to move in case there really was something there and it didn't know I knew it was there yet. But after a few minutes of silence, I allowed myself to begin relaxing again as I found nothing. Maybe the sound had been in my head, conjured by my tired mind and thinking about all the things that could have been there. Or perhaps it had just been a noise from one of my neighbors that my over active imagination had translated into something else. It seemed possible and it was nearly impossible for me to know what was real and what wasn't anymore.

Just as I let my eyes close again, that soft chuckling rang through the air again. It wasn't loud and startling, but it was odd and had a strange quality to it. Once again, I froze and looked around, searching out the source and feeling paranoid as my pulse quickened and I slowly sat up.

"Ya might as well sleep now if yer ganna..." The distorted voice had me nearly jumping through the ceiling. Had I been a cat, every hair on my body would have been standing on end as I internally freaked out. Yet there was nothing there, no shadowy things hiding in the corners, no specter that deviated from it's replayed loop. I looked around the entire room and found nothing at all.

"While it's away." As the seemingly bodiless voice continued talking, I continued nearly panicking and desperately searching the area it sounded like it was coming from. But the voice was so... echoing, watery, like I was hearing it through a fish tank or something and it was hard to tell where it was coming from. That didn't stop me from trying, though.

"What do you mean?" I couldn't help myself, I had to ask. It was odd how whatever it was was just casually talking to me, like any other person sitting in the room with me. I half expected to see a man sitting in the chair across from me.

Something in my peripheral vision shifted, moved as it spoke next. "Yer little friend, the one that seems ta like ya a bit too much ain't here. Can' ya tell?" But as I tried to look at whatever had moved, it was gone. "Damn, I thought ya were good at this. Ya can hear me an' all. See me too."

What the hell... I really had no idea how to react to it's exasperation but as I continue to converse with the entity, I realized that if I didn't look directly at it, I could almost make out the outline of a man standing in front of me, just standing in the middle of my sitting room, looking at me. It wasn't really an outline, I guess, more of a whiter spot, like something was bleaching the color out of the room, out of the very air. I could see right through it, but the objects sitting behind had a slightly duller look to them.

I don't know if I was just cuing in on something entirely obvious that I didn't realize or if it really was just a gut feeling, but I knew the entity talking to me had to have been the very man I had seen the night before. As he spoke, I could feel the same undercurrent of power that I had noticed yesterday, during my dream and again as he had shown himself in my kitchen. It didn't even occur to me how odd it was that he knew about the shadowy things that stalked and fed off me. It wouldn't be until later that I learned that the bastard had tried the very same with him but it seemed it found me more palatable.

"I could tell it wasn't here." I told the entity, a little bit defensively, still trying to watch it from the corner of my eyes. He didn't move, really, other than shifting his stance every so often, like he knew he wasn't overly noticeable but still wasn't trying to hide from me. "But you were throwing me off."

It suddenly made sense why I had felt so paranoid and uneasy even though I had known the shadowy things weren't lurking about; because I really wasn't alone. I just hadn't know he was there, in my apartment and watching me.

The only answer I received was an annoyed but amused "Tch." and another watery laugh. I imagined I could see him throwing his head back as he laughed, his long hair flowing out behind him. Or maybe it wasn't my imagination, maybe I could see him enough to get the general idea. It was so hard to tell. And annoying. Not being able to fully see him was setting me on edge and getting on my nerves.

"And why the hell are you hiding?" I all but snapped, even though I was pretty sure he was standing in front of me on purpose, so that I knew he wasn't hiding. I couldn't help it, I was starting to get angry and it was starting to show.

"I ain't hidin'." His watery voice said, the source a bit closer than before. I hadn't seen him move, but I guess that wasn't surprising. "I'm sittin' right next ta ya."

The couch beside me dipped and I couldn't help but flinch away, the surprise probably showing on my face as I stared at the nearly empty space. Still the only thing I could see was the pale outline of a figure, kind of like the way they always portray ghosts in movies, only he didn't look like a sheet and he was even more see through at the moment. He wouldn't stay that way though, not for much longer.

"Why are you so hard to see, then?" I asked him. I figured I might as well keep him talking, at least that way I got the general idea of where he was and for some strange reason, I still didn't feel the same primal fear that I had come to associate with the other entities that payed attention to me, the other ones that could see and interact with me.

"Kinda hard to show myself so clearly in the sun. 's like camouflage, I blend." He told me, snickering the entire time in that odd voice. "I'm white as a ghost." With that he threw his head back and was practically rolling in his laughter. I could actually feel it through the couch, the cushions and springs bouncing with his mirth. The joke it's self was pretty lame, but it was amusing enough that he had any sort of sense of humor all things considered and seeing, well feeling, him crack himself up was kind of funny. I couldn't help the slight smirk that spread my own lips. It was a rare thing for me to show a real smile, aside from the maniacal grin I flashed at those that thought they could push me around.

Then an idea struck me. If he was being serious about it being hard for him to show himself in the sun, then I'd make it darker, block the sun. I stood from the couch and his laughter died instantly as if he realized what I was doing. I could feel his eyes on me as I slowly, calmly walked away from him and across the room toward the two windows that faced the street and let light into the apartment.

"'m not sure tha's a good idea." He told me, sounding serious for the first time since showing himself, as I began twisting the little bar that controls the blinds and lowering them over the windows.

"Why's that?" I asked, not looking over my shoulder and moving to the next window, trying to ignore that I was talking to something that shouldn't have been there, something that most wouldn't be able to see or feel or probably hear.

"Well, ya freaked out on me the last time I tried ta show myself. Was pretty funny, though."

I mumbled out a "fuck you." as I finished closing the second blind, plunging the room into darker shadows, shadows I normally hated and still did, making myself paranoid and setting us both up for what was about to happen.

As I turned around, intent on staying calm and really getting a good look at just whom and what I was conversing with, I caught movement from behind and my 'fight or flight' instinct and reflex took over. And I was never one to run away.

My fist connect with something much more substantial than I would have expected and before I knew it, I was watching the man I would soon learn to call by name stumble backward, a pale hand to his face and his golden eyes wide.

My eyes had to have been just as wide as I stuttered and tried to decide if I should be apologizing or not before I settled on just staring, taking him in. It didn't take him long to recover and the anger I was expecting was no where to be seen. Instead, he laughed in that manic, lilting voice yet again, head tilting back and mouth opened wide to show white teeth and a...blue...tongue. Huh.

That wasn't the only strange thing about him. Everything about the entity was oddly colored. His eyes being the most prominent. Certainly not a trick of the dark surroundings, his irises truly were a liquid gold, swirling and fiery where they swam in inky depths. They were captivating. His hair was longer than I had expected and ashen, colorless, as was his skin.

I stood wide eyed in front of him as I took in his lithe but muscled build. I could still very nearly see the room and the couch through him, like he wasn't wholly substantial and solid, a testament to him not really being like me. But I had been able to touch him, hit him, whatever. And he could interact with the things around him, if me being able to feel the couch dip when he sat had been anything to go by. It was so very strange and the oddest thing of all; I was almost comforted by his presence.

Then he held out his hand to me expectantly and I, still a little more than a little uncertain, raised my own to clasp his in a surprisingly solid grip. He shook my hand in a rather average and normal greeting before bring it up to brush the backs of my knuckles against his pale, petal soft lips in a gesture I had only ever seen being done to pretty women in movies.

My mind drew a blank and I could only stare at him as he spoke, a smirk that should not have been so charming on his colorless features.

"I'm Shirosaki. Nice ta meet ya, Grimmjow."

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**So what do ya think? Still enjoying the story and plot?  
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	4. Chapter 4

**Enjoy~  
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"Don' ya have work in the mornin' er somethin', Grimm?"

"Nah." I yawned out an answer from where I sat on the couch, elbows on my knees and rubbing at my face, beginning to feel tired once again after the initial shock of meeting this new entity had worn off. "I have tomorrow off. And why are you calling me 'Grimm' all of a sudden?"

"Ah, I see." The specter known as Shirosaki said from where he sat beside me. I could feel the couch bounce slightly with his movements as he nodded, subtle as they were. "And coz we're friends. Ain't we, Grimm?"

"Uhh..." I hesitated, not knowing how to answer that. We had only just met and he wasn't even human. I wasn't really sure what he was at the time, but I knew he had never been a human, I could feel that much just sitting near him. He wasn't really alive either, at least not in the same sense that I was. I couldn't even prove that he was real and he certainly, if nothing else, was not what qualified for a typical friend. But then, what the hell was normal anyway? "I guess so."

I could practically hear the smirk in his words as he spoke again, his lilting voice sounding ever amused as he reassured me. "We're friends." He told me, sounding rather confident and pleased with himself. "Ya can call me Shiro if ya wanna. Friends can do tha' sorta thing."

"Ok." Again, the little smile was tugging at the corners of my lips as he spoke and I didn't need to look over at him to know he had a face splitting grin of his own on his features.

"And ya can call me 'Shi' when we get even closer if ya wanna. 's up ta you." This time, I did look over at him. He winked at me in a mockingly lewd way, that wide grin I had pictured plastered to his unnaturally pale features.

I answered his wink by raising a single blue brow, again wondering why the hell that smirk was so damn charming when it shouldn't have been anything other than mildly creepy at best.

"Don't you mean 'if'?" I asked him, realizing he had purposefully said when we get closer and hardly even thinking about all the reasons that would never work, like the whole nonhuman thing or the fact that I wasn't supposed to be able to see him, never mind that I didn't even know him.

"Nah. I meant 'when'." He threw his head back in laughter at my reaction. When I continued to only stare at him, wondering if I was being haunted by an insane ghost or something, he only began laughing harder, clutching his stomach and eventually falling a little over dramatically to the floor, where he finally began calming down again, wiping tears away from those tantalizing, inverted eyes.

The smile on my face grew just a little bit wider.

We had been talking for hours, and continued to talk for quite a while longer about nothing in particular. It was weird, but not in a bad way and I found that I actually enjoyed our conversations. It was kind of nice having someone around, even if that someone wasn't supposed to really exist.

I was so comfortable around him that I let my guard slip and my fatigue catch up to me, eventually falling asleep on the couch next to him as the sun out side began to settle behind the skyline of the city. I think he knew that was going to happen though, that's why he had been trying to imply that I should probably go to bed.

Shiro had been right; I should have went to bed long before I fell asleep. I should have taken advantage of the absence of the less benign creature that seemed to have it out for me. The peace and quiet could only last so long, the shadowy thing that fed from my energy and my fear wouldn't stay away, wouldn't let anything interfere for long.

I hadn't known it at the time, but he had been the reason it had stayed away. Shiro was repelling it somehow, had been since he had shown himself to me in the kitchen the night before, but he couldn't keep it up forever. As the shadowy thing, the monster that was ever waiting for an opportunity to attack and take what it wanted grew angrier, Shi was beginning to loose the fight. He was wasting more of his own energy, reserves he couldn't replenish since he hadn't been feeding, and that thing was only growing stronger in it's rage, a rage it would be taking out on both of us.

But for now, it was quiet enough in my little apartment; peaceful while it was just the two of us. I'm not sure how long I was out, but when I awoke, all was silent in my building as well as the streets outside and the room was dark while the world awaited the sun's rise.

I laid still for a while, back flat against the mattress of my bed and the blankets pulled up to my chest, mostly hiding the gauze I had wrapping and protecting the wound from the fight the day before. I was comfortable and warm and the combination was slowly lulling me back to sleep. The surprisingly warm and solidly built body pressed against my side wasn't really helping matters any and only made going back to sleep all the more inviting, but it was my day off so I really didn't need to get up at any particular time. I was content to sleep the day away if I got the chance, something that had never happened before. I had never even thought about it before, always the type to get up and start doing something, anything.

My eyes slowly opened to stare up at the off white ceiling as my tired mind gradually woke up enough to make me realize just what was going on around me. I was pretty sure I had fallen asleep on the couch and, as proven before, once asleep I don't move until something wakes me, which isn't usually too hard. I'm normally a pretty light sleeper and I don't sleep walk or anything crazy like that. That would just be pushing it too far on my long list of un-normal shit.

I tried to prop myself up on one elbow to look around the room and sort out how I had managed to get there but found that the solid weight against my right side was pinning me down, resting on my outstretched arm and shoulder, though surprisingly careful to avoid the jagged gash running down my chest.

I looked down, fighting the slight defensive aggression that was trying to make me freak out at being pinned in such an exposed position. Every experience I had ever had told me to fight, to lash out and get away from whatever was holding me down, holding me still, keeping me vulnerable.

"What the fuck..." I mumbled groggily, taking in the expanse of smooth, pale flesh that stood out in stark contrast from the dark sheets and my own golden skin. The sheets were pulled away from his lithe shoulders and lean back, settling around his waist, the edge of a different fabric peeking out to reassure me that he was still at least in his pants.

In the darkness of the bed room, with no sunlight peeking in from the blinds, Shiro actually looked as solid as any living person. I couldn't see the slight shapes of what lay under him like I had been able to before. Even what I could see of his clothing, as little of it as he seemed to be wearing, looked solid and substantial. I vaguely wondered if he would be visible to anyone else while he was like this. If a normal person were to walk in, would he or she be able to see him the way he was? He seemed so...real.

As I laid there, unable to bring myself to look away and trying to decide if I should be freaking out and kicking him out of my bed, his snowy brow creased slightly as if he could feel my lingering gaze on him before he pried his eyes open to look up at me. They flashed in the darkness for a split second, the gold seemingly glowing brightly enough to produce it's own light, further proof of just how inhuman he was. It didn't last long though, hardly long enough for me to even notice, just long enough for me to wonder if it had really happened at all.

"Mornin'." His normally lilting voice was quiet, hoarse almost from the few hours of sleep he had gotten but he still seemed tired, drained. Did things like him even need sleep? It seemed kind of strange to me, but how was I supposed to know. Shiro chuckled quietly, letting me know that I had apparently voiced my question out loud without realizing it in my half asleep state. "Not usually, but i's a good way ta conserve energy."

At the time, I had wondered what that meant. I wondered why he would need to conserve energy, as he had said. I probably should have been questioning whether what he said was true or if it was just an excuse to get into my bed, he hadn't exactly been subtle in his pursuits, but the thought never crossed my mind. It was like I just knew he was being honest. And it turned out that he was. The conserving energy thing was important, though he didn't give me the slightest hint that he was slowly being worn down and loosing the battle I didn't even know he was waging.

"So..." I really wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing in my bed, laying curled against me and snuggled under the sheets like we were more than just friends, but I really had no idea how to approach the subject. Normally, I would have just started going off, probably yelling and growling my annoyance, possibly breaking a thing or two, maybe his face in the process, but I actually kind of liked him. I, for once in my life, had no desire to offend or hurt the person next to me, the person touching me. "Didn't I fall asleep on the couch?"

"Yeah ya did, an' let me tell ya; yer a lot heavier than I thought ya'd be." He snuggled his face back against sheets that covered my bared chest and abdomen as he spoke, like he was more than ready to leave it at that and go back to sleep.

I was still throughly confused and I'll admit a little impressed. Granted, I didn't know how the rules or whatever of supernatural creatures worked, but Shiro was several inches shorter than I and not nearly as solidly built and it was pretty impressive that he had managed to not only carry my heavy ass down the hall, strip my tank top off and put me in bed, but do it all without waking me up. Oh, and crawl in next to me.

Without lifting his head back up, he chuckled quietly as if knowing what I was thinking, which should have been a little disturbing, but it really wasn't. The sound vibrated in his chest and against mine where he was laying, his bare abdomen all but glued to my side. As his breathing slowly evened back out, sending little puffs of hot air to tickle against my collar bone and neck, I wrapped the arm he was laying across around his shoulders to keep him close and let my eyes drift shut as well.

I felt a lazy but triumphant smirk slide across his features and shook my head slightly, not bothering to open my eyes to look at him. I knew he thought he was already winning the little if/when debate from earlier that night, before I had fallen asleep, and maybe he was but I didn't really care. At the moment, I was more than content to snuggle with the entity I was beginning to convince myself was really there and sleep until the sun came up. It would turn out to be the last night of decent rest I'd be getting in a while.

While I slept, as the deeper REM stage began to take over, I dreamt yet again. It wasn't like either of the other dreams I had had up to this point, not really. No shadowy creatures invaded my mind, nothing fed me nightmares and visions to instill fear. The world around me was white, sterile, empty if you looked around with your eyes. Just like in my dreams before, the white carried the same undercurrent of power, of protective aggression, of...something.

I found myself laying upon the white. I knew it to be a bed of some sort, though it couldn't be seen and blended seamlessly with the rest of the white that surrounded me. As I looked around, a figure nearly as colorless as the rest of the dreamscape began to emerge, splitting away from blank void as if from nowhere. Horns adorned the creature's head, it's face was mask like and almost fashioned after a skull. Markings began in the center of it's chest, a very male and muscled chest, and spiraled outward, disappearing behind it, around it's shoulders and running up it's mask like visage. Long, flowing hair whipped about behind the creature I now knew to be male, as colorless as the rest of the specter. The only deviation to his pale pallet of colors was the rich glowing gold that emitted from where his eyes would have been, should the skull like mask have not been in the way.

As the specter neared me, I found myself nervous, a little apprehensive but not afraid, like I knew what was coming and knew he didn't intend to hurt me. Like most dreams, vivid and filled with very real seeming emotions and sensations, bits and pieces really didn't make sense in a real world setting, but it didn't seem to matter and as I watched, the creature appeared directly above me. His head tilted slightly, a wide and familiar grin seeming to stretch his motionless features as he glanced at me before looking down. Following his piercing gaze, I realized that I was naked, still laying upon the bed that I couldn't see. He seemed to laugh, a chuckle more than all out laughter, but it made not a sound. The noise was there but it wasn't and all within my dreaming world was silent.

The whole situation should have terrified me, the creature it's self should have been enough to have me falling out of bed and waking myself up as I thudded to the floor of my apartment. But strangely, it wasn't frightening at all, nothing about the creature or the rest of the dream seemed alarming in any way.

Before I knew what was going on, a wet heat engulfed my suddenly straining member and I arched away from the white, looking down to see a long, faintly bluish tongue wrapped around my cock, golden eyes looking up at me hungrily. That devilish tongue slid around my shaft, the pointed tip laving over the head of my cock and teasing at the slit. I moaned my pleasure, the sound deep enough to rumble in my chest as the specter lowered his head to further engulf me, his tongue working and twisting and stroking all the while he bobbed up and down over my member.

My hips twitched and my hands fisted in sheets I couldn't see as I fought to stay still while he continued his assault. As pleasure over came me and my sense of reason, I let my head tilt back and the need to move take over. He didn't stop me, but placed clawed hands on my thighs to guide my movements as he greedily sucked with a hunger that seemed to overwhelm him just as badly as my need did to me.

I moaned and grunted, trying to give voice to the pleasure consuming my mind, but again all seemed silent within the dream. Even still, he seemed to understand and that smirk was back, curling the corners of where his lips would have been should that mask like thing not have been there. I tilted my head back, eyes squeezing shut as heat spread through out my abdomen. I came hard and felt as his long tongue swirled about to collect my spilled seed while I rode out the waves of my release.

Panting slightly in the aftermath, I allowed my body to relax and opened my eyes to see the ceiling of my bedroom, late morning sunlight playing through the closed blinds to throw shadows across the off white paint in harsh, vertical stripes. Brows furrowing in the confusion that always follows waking up from a particularly vivid and intense dream, I turned my head in time to see Shiro smirk up at me, sticking a single finger in his mouth like he was sampling something's flavor and swirling his cerulean tongue around it in a lewd and surprisingly familiar way that didn't quite register at that moment.

My eyes widened and darted to my lap to see the sheets tented, a darker stain coloring them. I groaned in slight embarrassment and dropped my head back to the pillow, throwing my free arm across my eyes and blowing out a deep sigh. There was absolutely no point in even trying to deny what had just happened, and all while Shi had been sleeping at my side. Though, it didn't look like he had been sleeping through all of it, which would have been preferable.

"Musta been a good dream." His tone was teasing, but not in a cruel way. It was more a tone that spoke of knowing something he shouldn't have. Still curled comfortably against my muscled abdomen, my right arm still looped around his slender shoulders, Shiro chuckled quietly and drew his finger from his mouth with a pop.

Not really knowing what else to do, I played along with him. There was no point in being embarrassed over something I had no control over.

"It was. Ya should have been there." I told him, much to his amusement. I let my arm fall away from my eyes, allowing my other one to fall to the mattress as well and release Shiro. I stared at the ceiling a moment longer, wondering what I was supposed to do with my day off and what seemed to be a very attached ghost thing. I looked over at said ghost thing as I felt the bed shift with his movements, noticing how much less solid he looked again, even with the room still being cast in deep shadows. I could see the shape of my dresser behind him, the door just beside it. He was so insubstantial that I could even tell the door was open.

As he climbed to his feet, stretching his arms above his head and yawning like any normal human, I realized he looked more tired now than he had the first time we woke up. I wondered at that, but didn't feel I really knew him well enough to question it. Maybe he always looked tired after getting up, or maybe it had something to do with the whole conserving energy issue.

I climbed out of bed after him, happy he had at least left my boxers on when he had put me to bed and again wondering at just how he had managed that. I crossed the room to my dresser, pulling out a pair of clean boxers and jeans, relieved that Shiro didn't comment on the dream or the mess I made in the pair I was wearing, or the stiffy I still had that wasn't very well hidden in my thin underwear.

Leaving the bedroom, the pale specter of my new friend followed me down the hall. I paused at the bathroom door, looking back at him and kind of hoping he wouldn't follow me into the shower, that would have been a bit awkward. Shiro grinned at me and rolled his inverted eyes before continuing down the hall passed me and toward the front of my apartment. I watched him get half way to the next room before he simply vanished.

Blue brows furrowing, I scanned the hall and the sitting room beyond for a moment, hoping it was normal for him to do that. I could tell something wasn't right with him, though he acted normal enough, or at least what I had deemed as normal. Still, it was a gut feeling I had that told me something wasn't quite right, like he was sick. I realized it was something concerning his need to save energy and I also realized that he hadn't always been visible to me, even while he had apparently been around. Perhaps they were connected somehow.

Finally convincing myself he was fine, I turned back toward the bathroom to shower and ready for the day, a day I had no idea how I was going to spend. I showered, glad when the hot water didn't help me find any unwanted marks. After I climbed out and changed into the clean boxers and jeans, I pushed the door open, letting the hot steam from the shower billow out of the room and peeked around the door frame, still kind of hoping to see Shiro. When I didn't see him floating about, I turned back toward the bathroom and grabbed my tooth brush from it's holder before wiping the condensation away from the mirror with my hand.

"Aww~ did ya miss me er somethin'?"

I jerked my hand away, jumping back even as I realized what had just happened and glared at the visage in the mirror. Shiro smirked back at me where my face should have been, all but silently cracking up, his voice muffled through the glass of the mirror like he was actually inside it or maybe behind it.

"How do you do that?" I asked as I stepped back to the sink and began brushing my teeth, staring at him in the mirror. It was strange to look into something I was so used to seeing myself in and that not be what I was looking at.

He gave me a half assed shrug in answer and separated himself from the mirror to join me in the bathroom like he couldn't stand to be away from me anymore than I could stand to be away from him, though I hardly realized it quite yet.

After a few minutes of idle talk, mostly him trying to explain to me just how he managed to replace himself with my reflection, which I still don't really understand, we were headed back toward the front room when I decided to ask him what I had been wondering at before the shower.

"Shiro, you ok?" I asked curiously, looking over to see that he was nearly invisible again, though not quite as badly as the day before and he was still looking off somehow. He still held that face splitting grin, his golden eyes were still just as fiery, but something still didn't look quite right, I just couldn't put my finger on it.

He gave me another half assed shrug, his grin lessening just a bit as he looked over at me. "Eh. We'll fin' out."

I frowned but didn't say anything. He knew what I had been talking about and he knew his answer hadn't satisfied me, but it had been the only answer he had to give. I still didn't know what was going on and he really didn't know if he would be alright or not. We wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

As the day went on, the two of us sitting around and still getting to know each other, the very air within my apartment seemed to get thicker, darker. We both felt when it started probing around again, when it had finally had enough of Shiro's antics. Though the shadows still had yet to show themselves, I could feel them hovering near by, could tell they were angry. There was an almost cruel undercurrent to their feel that sent a chill down my spine and had me nervous and paranoid again. I could also tell that at least some of that anger was pointed toward Shiro, though I had no idea why yet.

Occasionally, when he thought I wasn't paying attention, I would catch him with this odd expression. It wasn't quite fear, but it certainly wasn't his usual, amused grin either. Shi almost gave off an air of nervousness when he wasn't careful to keep it away from me, an uncertainty that didn't suit him well. I liked all of his brash confidence.

Finally, as the sun began to set again, deepening the shadows and dimming the lights of my home, Shiro turned to me, the smirk gone, his white brows pulled together and his eyes a bit wider than normal. He still looked more opaque than he had, still looked like something was wrong and I found myself worried before he even said anything.

"I...I'm sorry..." He all but gasped out, his lilting voice breathy like he was straining even though it seemed as though he was only sitting on the floor beside me. It had been a battle of wills up to that point, a silent and invisible war between he and the shadowy demon that had taken more out of him than a physical fight would have. And now that the bastard was beginning to get the upper hand, Shiro wouldn't have the strength needed for a physical confrontation.

Confused, I shook my head slightly, blue brows furrowed to match his. Before I had the chance to ask him what he was talking about, he jumped from the floor and rounded the couch. I stood from where I sat, still not understanding and beginning to think the worst. However, that didn't even begin to describe it.

I looked over the back of the couch to see Shi standing in the opening to the dark hall, his back toward me. His colorless hair seemed to flow out behind and around him, as if following currents I couldn't feel nor see, his stance was squared and tense but his head was tilted back slightly, looking up at something that must have stood taller than he did.

As I watched, my look of confusion slowly melted away as my eyes widened. Passed Shiro, the darkness that I mistook for simply being the dark of the hallway began swirling and changing, moving and flowing on it's own. It bubbled and folded back in on it's self, nothing but malevolence and anger roiling through and from it, aimed at Shiro for the time being. It seemed to disregard me all together at the moment, but that wouldn't last and as I watched, tendrils of darkened shadow seemed to bleed from it like and open wound, dimming the light I had turned on in the sitting room.

"Grimm...Grimm, don' freeze up now..." I snapped my wide eyes away from it and to Shiro in time to see him bare white teeth at the shadowed creature as it began to emerge, invading the lit room and seeming to swallow both the light around it and the natural shadows. A darkened object vaguely in the shape of a massive, clawed hand reached from the hallway entrance, separating from the rest of the mass and gripping onto the frame of the entrance. Large enough to nearly wrap around Shiro's waist, another shot from the darkness to collide with the pale entity that I had befriended as I took a step back.

Never before had I seen it this angry, this enraged. It was hungry and it was sick of the being that had been standing in it's way for the past couple days and Shi was very nearly out of strength to keep fighting it. The thing that had been tormenting me, haunting and toying with me since I was little was back in full and it was more powerful than it had been back then, more angry and more bold. It wasn't going to wait for me to fall asleep this time and it wasn't going to let anything stand in it's way.

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**Where's the dramatic music when you need it? Let me know what you thought please~ **


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow... I had a whole load of crap I wanted to say here, and now I can't remember :/  
If you haven't checked out Storm's wonderful illustration yet, go do that! **http: / / blackstorm . deviantart . com / art / Swallow - the - Shadows - 299309421**  
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**anyway, not sure how happy I am with this chapter... but after re-reading it like 13 times, I think it's as good as it gets and I'll be moving onto the next one now  
Try to enjoy~!  
**

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Claws made of nothing but cold shadow seemed to dig into the drywall that framed the entrance to my hall, long, spindly fingers curled into an angry fist around the corner. Those long fingers seemed to flex against the wall they dug into, like the creature was pulling it's self into the room. The temperature dropped and if I wasn't shaking before, I nearly was now as more shadows curled around the door frame and began to invade the room, a malevolent hunger tangible in the hostile air.

The floor lamp flickered with the power the shadowy demon was spewing forth and Shiro grunted as he visibly slid backward and away from the threshold of the hall, though he hadn't been trying to move. He was shaking with effort, trembling in his exertion to keep the shadowy thing at bay. It was a loosing battle of strength, not physical, at least not in the same sense that I would normally think of. But it wasn't quite a battle of wills, either, not anymore. It was like the two entities were forcing out currents of power invisible to me, though the cold I could feel rolling off the tendrils of shadows were hinting at the malevolent specter's strength. I could feel nothing of Shiro's, though I got the feeling he was a force to be reckon with as well, at least when at full power. Whether I couldn't feel it because it wasn't meant to harm me, or simply because it was aimed in the opposite direction, I really don't know.

As Shi began to falter in his squared off stance, another hand reached out with a speed that seemed unnatural for a shadow. Large claws hooked through his flesh, swiping through what would have been impossible for most people to touch. In the next instant, the searching hand wrapped long fingers around the flesh it had gouged, nearly able to wrap entirely around Shiro's abdomen.

Shiro's pale hands shot down, wrapping around a thin but still rather large wrist when compared to the pale man's own, his black nails seeming to grow longer, sharper with his aggression. His mouth fell open, a sneer curling his lip to bare his teeth and his fiery eyes shining and flashing in the shadowed entrance, casting a dancing golden glow. It wasn't a shout of pain or surprise that left his throat like I had been expecting. Instead, a strange, almost airy sounding growl emitted, something that could have never been made by a human, or an entity that had once been human. It was primal and guttural, angry and just barely hinting at Shi's desperation. It seemed familiar somehow but I was hardly in the state of mind to think on it much.

The light flickered a few more times, just like in some cheesy horror film, only it really was freaky and it held that ominous quality that had me dreading what the darkness would bring. I bumped into the front door, hardly realizing I had been backing away from the battling entities. The shadows seemed to swarm the room all at once as the hand latched around a struggling Shiro flexed in jerking movements that suggested too many joints, swallowing the light and my friend's pale form with it. As darkness all but descended, the light still glowing faintly off to the side through swirling, black fog but casting no real illumination, I heard Shiro's hissing snarl pick up it's lilting tone again before something thumped heavily into the wall before sliding to the floor. I felt the vibration through the door and knew it had been Shiro to collide with the wall.

Back pressed to the front door, hand around the door knob and on the verge of turning and fleeing like some pathetic coward, I scanned the darkened but not quite pitch black room for signs of movement, signs of life, anything at all but all I found was swirling shadows, curling and flowing like thick smoke. I would never be able to see it coming and I knew that. It knew that too.

"Shiro?" I questioned, my deep voice sounding far stronger than I felt in that moment. I couldn't find him either. His pale form, insubstantial and less than solid, was completely lost in the nearly black shadows that danced about the room in unnatural movements, ebbing and flowing as if with their creator's breath. I could guess the general area he was, provided he hadn't moved from where he had struck the wall at but how was I to be able to tell? He wasn't a mortal creature, wasn't really a person no matter how human he seemed at times. He was something different, something I didn't really know much about, despite my experiences with the paranormal things around me.

My voice drew it's attention, reminded it that I was it's intended target, not the entity it had been battling. The swirling, sickly shadows before me thickened and took on a vague shape, the very same shape it had taken when it danced along the edges of my vision as a child, the same shape it had showed me while I had been too drugged up to respond.

Fear flashed in my mind, the memories of being helpless to fight back, of being helpless to stop what was happening to me clouding my reasoning and making panic stir in my chest. It didn't dart on the edge of my vision any longer. It hovered directly in front of me and yet it was still hard to see, still hard to distinguish from the rest of the shadows, the shadows it manifested to cause chaos and panic and fear. It fed off that fear, drank it in and reveled in it's smell, used it against me.

Just as a long fingered hand reached toward where I stood frozen in place, the all too solid looking claws shining and glistening as if wet, something off to the side caught my attention, something white and pure and...protective. But it was bigger than Shiro, it's facial structure different yet familiar. That airy, groaning snarl filtered through the heavy air of my apartment, enraged and threatening, before two bodies collided and the shadowy demon was no longer hunched in front of me.

I heard them hit the floor, felt the boards shake beneath my bare feet. I caught a glimpse of white through the swirling smoky fog as the two battled and fought in a more physical way. The only sound was that made by the pale specter. The shadowy thing was silent, deathly silent even as it lashed out and it's claws tore into pale flesh and drew lines of dark, bubbling ichor that could only pass as blood.

Almost frantically, I searched the room to the best of my ability, wishing I could find Shiro, hoping he was alright. Perhaps he had vanished again? I didn't know where he went when he did that, but surly it was safer than being here. Still, I felt that he was near and I needed to know where he was.

As the shadows filling my apartment roiled with the creatures' movements, they parted slightly, giving me a glimpse of a horned head and long, flowing white hair. That mask like visage swung in my direction, gold piercing through the haze of dark to lock with my chilled and startled blue gaze.

"Grimm..." The voice was distorted and lilting under the harsh, snarling tone and my eyes widened as the pieces began to fall into place. "I can' hold it back fer long..."

That creature, the same one I had dreamt of the night before, was Shiro. I shook my head, eyes wide as I watched him, or what I could see of him, disappear in the suffocating shadows. He was running out of strength, I would have known that even if I hadn't been able to feel it. He wanted me to flee, to get away, but I couldn't and the hand I had wrapped around the door knob clenched into a fist at my side. He wanted to protect me, he wanted me to be safe, but I wanted the same for him. He was my friend.

A hissing roar tore through the room and in the back of my mind I wondered how none of my neighbors had heard what was going on in my apartment yet. That sound of rage, crawling from Shiro's throat and issuing from between the sharp teeth of his skull like visage, changed in pitch, rose and became nearly a shriek of both anger and pain. Just below the lilting cry, the patter of something wet hit my carpeted floor and the chill in the room dropped to an even colder temperature. I knew he was loosing, I could feel it weigh heavily in the back of my mind and I feared what that meant.

When faced with this shadowy bastard before, I hadn't been given the chance to flee. I had been too numbed by drugs to run, but I had never been given the chance to fight it either.

I grit my teeth, jaw clenching and blue eyes swirling with a slightly crazed fire. I wasn't a coward, I never ran away and I wasn't about to start now. I pushed away from the door as I called Shiro's name in a deep voiced roar, long legs stretching out to clear the space between myself and the cruel entity harming my friend, the creature that wouldn't leave us be so easily.

I found the thing, hidden amongst it's own shadows as it tore at Shiro, it's back toward me, though how I knew it was the thing's back not even I'm overly sure. It had no real defined shape, nothing solid and overly recognizable.

Shi struggled below it, his clawed hands hooked within shadows where he tore and fought it, shredded wisps of blackened, oily looking shadow coming away in his hands. His head was being held back and pressed down against the floor at an odd and debilitating angle that seemed to greatly hinder his movements, the too long, spindly fingers of one shadowy hand curled around one of his horns. He roared and shouted in that harsh, groaning voice that accompanied this form, whatever it was, as he grunted and gave sound to his battle. The thing he fought remained silent, almost as if incapable of making any noise at all or maybe it just didn't feel a need to.

I didn't know what I was doing, I had only ever tried to get away from it, but as more of the dark, thick ichor smeared bluish across Shiro's pale completion to dribble onto the floor as it followed the curve of his ribcage, I pushed the thoughts away and dove at the distracted demon. To my surprise, I actually hit...something. It was insubstantial and my hands, my fists sank through it like water but it was still there. Inside the creature was even colder than the air around it, like walking into a deep freeze and almost slimy, oily in a way that seemed to writhe and swirl like the shadows it was made of. I don't think I was really able to hurt it, but I must have annoyed it enough, or perhaps it was a strange sensation to have a foreign object passing through it. The shadowy bastard that had been haunting me since I could remember released Shiro with a twist of it's oddly jointed wrist and a forceful shove, leaving the pale specter panting and bleeding on the floor, shoved against the wall of my sitting room.

The thing spun on me, anger and malevolence roiling off it in waves that crashed like physical blows into me. Shiro groaned from somewhere in the darkened room, lessening the dread that had clawed into my gut but nothing stood between it and myself and I knew the outcome of it's rage would not be pretty as it advanced.

Faster than I could react, a large hand shot out from the swirling mass of tainted shadow that made up it's form. Hooked claws sank deep into the flesh along my spine as cold fingers wrapped around my midsection, squeezing and slicing even as it felt like my skin would freeze and crack. There was none of the almost surgical precision I had grown to associate with it, just fierce and hungered tearing.

After an indeterminable amount of time, it's claws sinking deep and my features twisting in pain I couldn't give voice to for how tightly it squeezed and constricted my body, Shiro found his feet and a flash of white darted through the black fog, cutting it away and sending it scurrying only to swirl in and close behind him and hide the path he had made. The creature swung toward the pale specter, discarding me as Shiro rushed in, teeth bared and mask like face showing his protective rage.

I hit the floor somewhere in the hall, the thud of my heavy and solid body connecting with the floor boards nearly loud enough to echo. I panted, trying to catch the air that had been denied me while I had been with it's grasp, head spinning and sinking and body shivering.

"Shit..." I stumbled upright, spinning a circle before I managed to get my bearings enough to realize which direction I was facing in the dark hallway. "Shiro?"

I took a step toward the sitting room, one hand bracing me against the wall as warm blood trickled down my spine and stained my clothing, the puncture wounds in my back burning and stinging but not registering as my thoughts only centered around the entity that had so quickly and easily wormed his way into my life.

My call was answered only by silence as the dark, hulking form of my personal monster crowded into the hallway entrance before me. Head tilted back, I stared at it with wide eyes until something pale and much smaller than a moment ago landed at my feet, still and silent.

Shiro, back to the human looking form I was used to, lay crumpled and unmoving on the floor between it and myself. He had used up too much of his energy repelling the creature, keeping it away from me while we got to know one another, and now he had nothing left to fight with.

A sneer twisting my features, I stepped over him, placing myself between my prone friend and the hungered and enraged demon that was so bent on keeping me in it's clutches. I could fight my way through almost anything, make any man eat his words and regret tormenting me. I could handle the physical repercussions of a fight, could handle getting my ass beat as long as my opponent went down with me but I was no match for it. No amount of my hard earned muscle would help me. I couldn't hit shadows, couldn't defend against something I couldn't get ahold of.

Before I even knew what was happening, claws had sank deep again, gouging at bone and slicing through muscle. A cruel expression seemed to curl the thing's face as grasped hold of me but it was more likely just a trick of the dim light and swirling, misty shadows it was made of. The door at the end of the hall, the one that led to my bed room, groaned as I struck it but the creature didn't relent. Before I could even sag to the floor, it was before me again, pushing against me until the wood I leaned against splintered around me and eventually burst inward, flinging me to the floor as it's claws shredded through the front of my shirt and the gauze that had been wrapped about my chest.

All the while, images flashed through my skull like lightening; dark and gritty and violent, full of shadows and demons, creatures built of fear and pain. Every time the shadowy entity would touch me, every time it's claws would shred through my flesh, another image, another scene or beast would flash behind my eyes, stealing away my ability to defend myself, my ability to reason where it was and what was going on. As I struggled against the monster tearing into me, I struggled against the unrelenting images in my mind, tried to decipher what was real and what it was feeding me, what could hurt me and what couldn't.

After minutes that seemed like hours, or maybe hours that seemed like minutes, my throat feeling horse from the yelling and screaming I hadn't even registered doing while my personal demon shredded into me, pounding and shouting echoed through my apartment, dull and hard to focus on but the voices weren't my own. Shiro was no where to be seen and I guessed he was probably still laying in the hall where he had fallen. I hoped he was still here at least, lest something even worse happened to him.

I vaguely registered someone shouting my name but they sounded far away, the voices muffled by the locked front door that kept them out, kept them from entering to help and probably kept them from getting hurt as well. Eventually, the demon must have gotten bored, or maybe it got what it was looking for and it scurried away just as silently as it had attacked Shiro and I, taking it's shadows with it as my front door was busted open and sirens filled the suddenly silent building.

I was found bleeding and broken on the floor of my bedroom, struggling against the EMTs and asking where Shiro was before loosing consciousness, my own blood soaking the carpet. The police, whom I would later learn my neighbors had called after being woken up by my screaming, though they had heard nothing of the fight between Shiro and the other entity, searched my apartment while I was rushed to the ER. They found no signs of forced entry aside from their own, nor did they find evidence of whoever had done this to me, though that was to be expected since the culprit wasn't even human and didn't really exist.

The cuts and gashes caused by the shadowy thing weren't clean like they normally were and they weren't gone in a day. I would awaken on the second day of my stay in the hospital, unable to remember the ambulance trip there or laying on the gurney as they wheeled me out of intensive care and into a normal room. The bruising from the beating I had taken made me sore and the cuts stung and burned but the worst of the injuries was the large gash running down my chest. Originally made from a broken bottle during a fight several days ago, that shadowy bastard had taken advantage of a naturally caused wound and used it as a base to only make the final product all the worse. It stung with each breath I took and even though it was firmly and carefully wrapped, I knew it had required stitching and who knew what else to keep it closed so that it could begin re-healing.

As I lay in the hospital bed, my fuzzy mind slowly reawakening to the sounds around me, I furrowed by brow and let out a quiet groan. I pried my eyes open and was met with a white, brightly lit room that stung my eyes and made the world seem to spin. Blinking a few times, I reopened my sensitive eyes to find that the lights had been dimmed slightly.

"Finally awake, I see." I jumped at the deep voice, instantly regretting the quick motion as everything hurt and my body lit on fire. With a breath carefully hissing between my clenched teeth I settled back against the bed.

The deep voice chuckled quietly, but it wasn't Shiro's voice and I couldn't keep myself from quickly scanning the room, looking for any sign of him. "I'm Doctor Kurosaki, I'll be taking care of you while you're here."

I stared at the tall, dark haired man in a doctor's lab coat as he extended his hand to me in greeting. After a moment, a slightly crestfallen expression flitted across his features before being replaced by an almost knowing and kind smile as he retracted his hand and continued to tell me when I had been brought there and a few other things. I found it hard to concentrate on what he was saying, I couldn't bring myself to care and I only wanted to know what had happened to Shi. At the same time, I felt I should be careful with my searching, I couldn't exactly just ask about him. I was laying in a hospital, surrounded by people I didn't know and the man standing in front of me held a chart that listed all of my medical history, meaning he knew I was supposed to be medicated for seeing things that didn't exist. My nerves were already shot and I was skittish from all of the above. The fewer questions that got asked the better.

"Now that you're awake, Mr. Jaegerjaquez, I'll have one of the nurses try calling your dad again." That caught my attention easier than anything else he had been saying and I swung my head to pin the man with cold blue eyes and an unhappy sneer, quickly adding aggression to the list of things going on in head.

"No." The doctor looked taken aback and surprised with the force of my refusal and possibly that I had said anything at all after whatever he had been saying before received nothing but silence. He started to protest but I didn't give him the chance to speak. "I don't want him here and don't call me that." I growled out, trying to sit up and struggling slightly to do so, doing my best to ignore the pain my slowly healing wounds were causing so that I could get up and leave before I could be forcefully medicated again or my father could be called.

A hand settled lightly on my arm and I reflexively flinched away from it, expecting an onslaught of visions and memories I didn't want, expecting to be fed more demons. But as I snatched my arm away, I realized that the contact hadn't incited anything and I looked over to see almost nothing at all. Shiro stood beside me, his inverted eyes wide with what I thought was worry as he tried to get me to lay back down and quit moving about.

I could hardly see him, hardly make out his figure and just barely feel his hand on me but what I could see told me just how badly he had faired as well. He looked tired and worn, his pale flesh smeared in places with a dried, bluish substance I guessed to be his blood. He panted slightly, his nostrils flared with the effort just from standing beside me and making himself visible enough for me to see.

I'm sure I looked throughly insane as I laid there and studied something that wasn't there.

On my other side, the doctor shifted his stance slightly, drawing my attention. His brown eyes were narrowed, flickering between me and the general area Shiro stood. I couldn't read him, couldn't tell if he thought I was crazy or if he was actually seeing the pale entity beside me.

"By the way." He said in a quiet, relatively neutral tone, one you would expect from a doctor. "Who's Shiro? I was told by the police you were asking for him..."

"Uh..." His eyes were still narrowed as he studied me, seeming to think as he glanced over what was visible of the wounds I had received, like he was beginning to get suspicious. "...my cat..."

Near by, Shiro snorted quietly and I almost smirked, relief flooding my system that he was at least still his usual self, but I held the expression, kept my features blank as I looked up at the doctor. He wasn't buying it, though. He knew something he shouldn't have.

"Mr. Jae"

"Grimmjow." I cut him off before he could say the rest of my last name. I hated being referred to as that, that was my father. Not me. The doctor paused, his dark brows raising fractionally before he nodded slightly.

"Grimmjow, then. What did it look like?" His eyes darted back toward the general area that Shiro stood, even though he had backed away from the bed and further from the strange doctor that was beginning to set us both on edge.

"My cat?" I tried to play dumb, I didn't know if he could see Shiro or not, but it seemed he could at the very least sense that he was there and I didn't like where this was going.

"No. You know what I'm talking about..." He said, giving me a stern and serious look.

"What? You have a badge attached to your medical license?" I all but spat out at him, starting to get pissed off as it seemed he was trying to pry into what had happened, looking for answers. And in the wrong place too. Wrongly accusing the only person I had ever connected with was not a wise idea, where that person was real or not.

The doctor remained motionless, expressionless for a moment before he shook his head and let a slight, goofy smirk cross his features. It seemed a more natural expression for him and yet wrong all at the same time.

"Fine, I get it." He said, picking up his chart and giving Shiro another side long glance. "But you know an Incubus is a little more dangerous than a cat."

I stared dumbfounded for a moment, completely reevaluating the doctor. I now understood there was no way I was going to fool him. He could sense Shiro, probably see him, at least almost see him. He even seemed to know what he was talking about, like he was knowledgeable in the paranormal. It took me by surprise to say the least, but it also meant I wouldn't need to play dumb with him, I wouldn't need to worry about him thinking I was insane or about keeping him from noticing the entity that seemed rather attached to me. He would understand that these things were real. To him, I wouldn't be crazy.

"Incubus?" I asked, glancing over at Shiro to see the specter with an openly shocked expression on his pale features. His eyes widened before he slowly looked over at me, locking with my gaze and freezing in place like deer in head lights. I could see how worried he looked, like I had just been told something he didn't want me to know. "Is that what he is? I already knew he wasn't human so..." I shrugged slightly, feeling the wave of nervousness wafting off of Shi lessen, if only slightly.

"You do know what an Incubus is, right?" The doctor asked me incredulously, still glancing at the pale figure that could just barely be seen standing in the hospital room with us. The man looked like he couldn't understood why it didn't seem to bother me that I was being followed around by such a thing, such a creature.

I nodded in answer, telling him I knew what that was and all that it entailed, though I was full of shit. I really had no idea.

"Incubi are dangerous things to play with..." The doctor told me in a low tone, one that told me he was trying to warn me, all the while his cold gaze remained on my friend. I suddenly realized what he was getting at and sneered a bit.

"He didn't do this to me." The doctor's gaze swung back to level on me, one brow rising in question and skepticism. "Something else did."

Dr. Kurosaki seemed to contemplate my words, studying me and looking for any sign that I was being less than genuine before nodding slightly and glancing at his watch before he spoke again, gathering his things.

"I'll tell the nurse not to call your father. If you need anything, there's a call button beside you. Don't hesitate." He told me, sending another unsure look toward Shiro that I ignored. He paused in the door way, a grin tugging at his features. "And I wont tell anyone you haven't been taking your medication."

He left the room, closing the door behind him, the echos of his amusement muffled but still easily heard. I stared with wide eyes for a moment before I blew out a sigh and let my head fall back against the pillow behind me, tired and worn out and sore as hell.

Shiro took a step toward me, seeming hesitant and unsure of himself for the first time since I had met him. I turned my head toward him, wishing I had told the doctor to turn the light off the rest of the way so that it would be easier for him to show himself.

"Ya just going to stand there?" I asked him, my deep voice quiet and rough and showing the deep fatigue I felt. A smirk flashed across his features, though it was a mere hint of what it normally was, as he seemed to appear directly beside me again in a blur of motion. The hospital bed dipped as he climbed up and made himself comfortable next to me, doing his best to curl up against me without hurting me. It was kind of strange to see how gentle he was trying to be after realizing that not only was he not a human entity, but that he could change his appearance into something much more brutal, much more aggressive and powerful.

Nothing in my life had ever been normal though and I took it in stride. After having my ass throughly handed to me and still mentally reeling from all that had happened the night before yesterday, I once again allowed the warm figured at my side to lull me into a light sleep, pushing the dull ache that had settled across my body to the furthest corners of my mind and hoping nothing would be awaiting for me in the darkness.

Drained of all energy, it didn't take long for unconsciousness to return but as I've said before, I'm usually a light sleeper and when the door cracked open and Shirosaki stiffened at my side, I was slowly pulled back to the waking world. Without opening my eyes or moving from where I lay, one arm wrapped around Shiro's waist and keeping him close, I listened as the door was quietly pushed closed and whoever had entered took a few steps closer. Shiro seemed to hesitate, acting as if he was about to jump off the bed but really didn't want to move, like he didn't want to wake me up. I could almost feel his gold on black gaze flicker between me and the person who had entered.

I could only guess that it must have been that strange doctor, anyone else probably wouldn't have been able to see Shiro and therefore wouldn't have caused this sort of reaction from the pale entity. After a moment, Shiro settled down, slowly relaxing as the sound of a chair being quietly dragged across the floor neared the bed I lay in. The doc must have indicated for him to not worry about getting up, which hopefully meant he wouldn't try anything.

Still not letting either of them know I was awake, I listened to the doctor take a seat and could nearly feel the slight tension between he and the pale ghost before the man spoke in a quiet but deep voice.

"Why are you attached to him?" The doctor's voice sounded stern, almost threatening as he addressed Shiro in a quiet tone. He sounded as if he already knew the answer but had to ask anyway, had to be sure of something.

I felt Shiro shrug slightly before his lilting voice answered. "I like 'im." It was a simple answer, but it took me by surprise and nearly had me giving myself away.

The doctor grunted, the sound full of skepticism, his tone dripping with a petulant sarcasm. "And we both know what happens to the human when an Incubus takes a liking to it."

Shiro bristled, the air instantly taking on a chilled, angered feel; the exact opposite of what I had grown to associate with the ashen entity in the short time I had known him. I didn't understand his anger, but then, I really didn't understand what they were talking about either.

"If I only wan'ed 'im fer feedin' do ya really think I'd have put myself in tha' position? Get myself nearly destroyed by a lesser demon?" Shiro all but spat out at the doctor. He was nearly shaking with his rage but his distorted voice was kept quiet in an effort not to wake me. "Hell, if I'd been feedin' at all do ya really think I'd a let this happen? If I'd a been feedin' off anyone, whoopin' tha' thing's ass woulda been nothin'."

"You haven't been...?" The doctor seemed taken aback, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Later, I would learn that Incubi, especially the higher level ones like Shi, fed at least every other day, sometimes ever day and when given the chance, multiple times a day. And damn does Shiro have an appetite.

"Nah. 's been more then a week." With his admission, Shiro seemed to deflate. He let his head settle back on my shoulder and his trembling lost it's angry quality and took on the feel of exhaustion, like after speaking it aloud, he realized just how weakened he truly was.

The doctor seemed shocked. He sputtered for a moment, trying to find what to say but he couldn't refute what Shiro was telling him. The evidence of it was written clearly across the entity's person, in his less than solid state and his lack of energy, as well as the physical marks I had taken and still showed.

"But if you're not feeding from him...then why...?"

"I told ya. I like 'im." Shiro answered the man, no hesitation in his voice as he let one pale arm carefully snake over my abdomen to wrap me in a slightly possessive but gentle embrace.

"You aren't going to hurt him?" The doctor kept his tone quiet and calm, professional, but it held an undercurrent of astonishment, obviously surprised by what was happening. "...I can't let you hurt one of my patients, and this boy's been through enough..."

"I ain't ganna hurt 'im. If I was ganna, I'd a done it a week ago." I could practically feel the ghost roll those strange eyes of his.

Nothing more was said. The doctor sat in the chair beside my bed for another minute, probably studying the way Shiro was cuddled up next to me, before he got up and crossed the room in silence. As the door quietly swung open once more, I decided to reveal that I was awake.

"Turn off the lights, would you, doc?" I asked, still not moving, but opening my eyes to let my piercing blue gaze settle on the man. I felt the grin that spread snowy lips, much more of the expression I was used to seeing on Shiro's handsome features and I couldn't help the smirk that lifted the edge of my own lips.

With surprise but amusement written on his features, the doctor did so before slipping out of the darkened room. I let the room grow quiet, making sure no one else would be joining us again before I decided to ask what was on my mind.

"Shi?" The entity let another, even wider grin slide across his lips at the use of his shortened name, the first time I had ever referred to him as that aloud for him to hear.

"Yeah, Grimm?" He asked, head resting on my shoulder and breaths fanning across my chest next to where his hand lay. What I asked next had his features going slack as he stuttered a few times, trying to figure out how to respond and fearful of how I would take the new information.

"What were you guys talking about? What's an 'Incubus' and how do you feed?"

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**Well, not sure about the ending... bet you weren't expecting fluffy, semi humorous ending for a dark chapter, yeah?  
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**So, out of curiosity, how many of you know what an Incubus is? (It's fine if you don't, we'll get to see Shiro explain himself to Grimmjow in the next chapter, and if you do know what one is, just know that I'm only going off the very BASE definition)  
**

**Anyway~ Let me know what you thought please~!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Finally~ An update for this story ^^; I've been very distracted with a different story lately, but no worries! I havn't forgotten this one and it's still in the works ^_^**

**Enjoy~! **

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"What were you guys talking about? What's an 'Incubus' and how do you feed?"

The entity, more solid now that the lights had been turned off but still not nearly as substantial as he should have been, seemed to freeze up beside me. His entire body went rigid and I felt the muscle of his jaw work a few times before he oh so slowly rose on one elbow to look down at me, to catch my eyes with his own.

His face looked drawn, a deep exhaustion settling in his less than opaque features, his expression blank until he rose a single snowy brow. "Yer kiddin', right? Ya just told the doc..."

"I was lying."

"Ya can see all these things...things like me, and ya never did any research er nothin'?" He sounded like he couldn't believe what I was saying. It made me wonder why didn't want to answer me. All the talk of being my friend...yet he felt he had to hide what he was... I sneered up at him, my classic, hot headed temper flaring.

"I didn't want to see these things. I was too busy wishing I couldn't see things like... things like it..." I told him, voice harsh and on the verge of anger as I clenched the hand not still settled around his waist into a fist. I didn't know what to call that shadowy bastard, but I knew he'd understand, so I continued, my words dropping into a growl. "I was too busy being drugged out of my mind and told that there was something wrong with me for years to even think about doing that."

Shiro winced, his unique gaze dropping from mine to settle near the door off to the side. "Fair 'nough." He said in a quiet voice, a slight nod accompanying his words. After a moment, he glanced back at me before dropping his head to bury his face in my chest, blowing out a sigh.

The sudden movement and extra weight pressing on the wound that had been torn down my abdomen had me holding my breath until the pain ebbed, wincing and gritting my teeth but when Shi let a nearly silent curse slip passed his pale lips and tried to get up, I wrapped corded arms around his shoulders to keep him in place. He didn't really struggle to get free, didn't have the strength to do so, but he paused for moment, letting me adjust to him before he settled back down, wrapping his thin but strong arms around and under me, hiding his face again.

The unexpected affection took me by surprise and made me wonder all the more about what was going on. I already knew he had a surprisingly affectionate side, I mean, I hardly knew him and he cuddled in bed with me. But this seemed a bit extreme.

"Are ya ganna freak out on me again when I tell ya?" His lilting voice was muffled from the thin blanket that had been pulled up over my bare chest.

I shook my head in answer, knowing that he couldn't see me but figuring he'd be able to understand all the same. He was rather perceptive when he tried.

"Fine..." Another, almost nervous sigh. "But don' hit me this time, I don' have the energy fer that stuff right now." Even if he hadn't looked like he was still drained, I would have believed him. He was practically laying on top of me, yet I could hardly feel his presence and his normally steady breathing fanned across my neck and chest in slight pants.

"Ok, so I ain't jus' a normal ghost, I'm an Incubus, we got tha' outta the way thanks ta Mr. doctor. An Incubus is... a type a demon." He paused and seemed to wait for a moment, like he was waiting for my reaction. I wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting but... Oh.

"Like that thing?" I asked in a quiet voice, nearly a whisper, images of oily shadows and cruel claws making my grip tighten around his shoulders. I didn't want him to be like that, couldn't believe that he was like the creature that had haunted me since childhood, had hurt me in more than just a physical way. Luckily, he wasn't and I felt as he tried to tighten his arms around me as I had done to him.

"Nah. It's a demon too, kinda, but a different type. Incubi are more powerful, usually. An we have the ability ta pick and choose whether ta harm our...host er ta let 'em live. We don' have ta kill humans, though a lot a Incubi ain't always tha' nice. Kinda gives our species a bad rap, ya know."

"That's why the doctor was worried." It made enough sense so far. Shi had made the decision not to harm the human he chose to attach himself too, in this case, me. He may have been a demon, but he wasn't cruel or evil like in the stories we always hear. I wasn't naive enough to think that he couldn't be truly demonic, his manic grin was enough to convince anyone that he could be if he wanted to be, but for some reason he had decided he liked me enough not to be, or so he had told the doctor. I believed him. So that left only one thing that I really didn't understand, and the reason he seemed to be growing weaker by the minute. "Ok, so what about feeding? How does that work?"

"Well..." Again with the uncharacteristic hesitation. It was strange coming from him. He was usually brash and straight forward, but maybe it had something to do with the whole not feeding thing. "Just like a human, I gotta eat too er I'll starve an' eventually cease ta exist. The difference is wha' I feed on and how I do it."

"Are you going to tell me something completely cliche like a human soul or some shit?" I couldn't help it, I had to ask. That's what every kid is taught growing up, isn't it? That demons feed on our sins and our mortal souls and all that crap.

Shiro snorted, an amused smirk tilting the edges of his lips finally. God, how I missed that smirk even though it hadn't been missing all that long. He carefully lifted himself off me on arms that seemed to almost shake before settling next to me once again, propped up on one elbow to watch my reaction as I stayed laying on the bed.

"Not quite." The amused smirk didn't go away and determination and something else lit his fiery eyes as he said a single word. "Sex."

"..." What the... "What?"

Shiro chuckled but there was as much hesitation in the sound as there was humor, maybe more. "Tha's how I feed... Incubi are male demons that draw energy, or feed, from havin' intercourse wit' a human, usually a female but I'm kinda odd abou' tha'..."

I didn't know how to react. I lay in the hospital bed, staring up at the pale demon that I had befriended with a blank expression on my face, completely taken by surprise. As the silence stretched on, the slight grin Shiro's features had held slowly began to melt away, replaced by something unnamable, something too close to hurt for me to think about at the time.

He unsteadily pushed himself into a more upright position, looking down at me, his gold on black eyes shining but not in a happy way, filled with an uncertainty I didn't like.

"Uh...Grimm...I understan'...if ya..." As he tried to get the words out, he slowly rose from the bed, climbing to his feet, though he shook from the effort it required. The look on his face...The serious, almost hurt scowl that marred his almost angelic, white features didn't belong there, made him look like a completely different person.

Before I had realized it, Shiro had become my anchor and more. He had shown up and grounded me, kept me together and kept me from loosing it just when things had been taking a turn for the worse. He had all but forced me to get to know him, to become friends with him and that was more than anyone else had ever done for me. That was more than any medication or doctor could do, more then any pathetic excuse for a parent could do.

As he took a step back and away from me, I threw the light hospital blanket off and kicked my legs over the side of the bed. Without thinking about what I was doing, I closed the distance between us and grabbed hold of him, clasped his hand in mine and pulled him close. I didn't really know how this whole...feeding thing was going to work, didn't know why he had chosen me of all people, but I knew I didn't like the look that had marred his handsome features, I didn't like seeing him try to back away from me.

His surprise didn't last long and he wrapped his arms around my waist as he trembled in his fatigue. My body chose that moment to register what I had done and burning pain flared to life, searing through my abused muscles and lighting the claw wounds I still sported with fire, nearly overwhelming enough to steal my breath. We both nearly collapsed to the floor but it didn't matter. Together, we supported each other and managed to climb back onto the hospital bed, panting and worn and in pain but together, Shiro folded up against my side, my thick arms wrapped around his shoulders.

We laid together in silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts as we enjoyed the feel of the each other and I waited for the pain to subside. After I had recovered from the sudden movement and strain my slowly healing wounds had not appreciated and my breathing returned to normal, I realized Shi was still panting, still trembling and still hardly there. Looking down at him, at where his arm was wrapped around my abdomen, I could see my bandages through him, see the color of my flesh, hardly dulled by his white complexion even in the near lightless room. The brilliant, dancing glow his golden iris' should have cast wasn't there, they didn't swirl with an unnatural flame in their black, depthless pools but rather looked almost dull, tired.

"Shi..." I could barely raise my rough voice over a whisper, almost afraid to ask him what was on my mind. He didn't respond, but his gaze flitted upward to meet mine. "You're not ok, are you?"

He shrugged slightly, his form seeming to almost flicker in and out with the movement, dimming to the point I almost couldn't see him at all. He must have noticed it too, or perhaps he could physically feel it, and a slight grimace crossed his face. "I've been better..." He admitted, lilting voice sounding hollow. "But I still got a day er two, maybe. I'm alright."

"A...day or two...?" Maybe. That didn't sound very 'alright' to me. He nodded slightly, the motion barely noticeable even though his head rested upon my shoulder. "What happens then?"

"I disappear from 'ere, get sent back ta my own realm." So that's were he went when he did his little disappearing act, made sense. But I knew that couldn't be all that he wanted to tell me, something didn't feel right, but he was struggling to speak, struggling to make himself heard. So I was patient. "No humans ta feed from, so I'll be stuck coz I won' have the energy ta get back 'ere..."

He trailed off, but I knew what that meant, understood what he was getting at. I didn't know if he would actually die since he wasn't really alive like I was, but he had said that he could starve and cease to exist. Too me, that was the same thing. "What do I do?"

His gaze caught mine again, a slight questioning hum slipping passed his pale lips to interrupt his panting but he hardly moved.

"How do I help? How...how do we..." Just because I'd never been with someone didn't mean I didn't know about sex. I understood that just fine, trust me, but what I didn't know is what exactly Shiro needed. Was it just going to be like normal fucking? Would he need something special since it was supposed to feed him? Did I need to do something different? I didn't know.

"Ya don' need ta do tha'... I won' make ya. Like ya too much fer tha'." He paused, panting to catch his breath while his less than substantial form flickered between being visible and nearly impossible to see. "I can fin' someone else if I get to close ta..."

I shook my head, not wanting him to finish that statement and not really needing to say anything for him to understand. I have no doubt he was being genuine when he told me I didn't have too, but I'm sure he knew I wouldn't deny him either. I don't know if it had something to do with what he was, but Shiro was surprisingly charming when he tried, even starved and weak as he was and I held no desire to deny him what he wanted, what he needed.

When he looked back up at me, I could see his hunger swirling as if it were molten lava within his eyes. They flashed a vivid gold, glowing in the darkened room for a moment but still he didn't move. It was strange, like words weren't needed. He was asking permission and, without saying a word, I gave it to him. A wide smirk stretched across his face as he rotated where he lay beside me so that he could press our centers together, almost seeming to hover over me on the thin mattress of the hospital bed.

The expression on his ashen features, the hungered look in his much brighter looking, flashing orbs had me nervous, a little unsure but not afraid; just like in the dream I now understood he had sent me. As he pressed his hips flush with my own, he slowly, sensually pulled my hand to his parted lips, his panting breath hot against my palm where he pressed the lightest of kisses.

He locked gazes with me, seemed to stare deep into my own oceanic blue eyes as his cerulean tongue wet his lips before snaking out further, longer than it should have been for his nearly human appearance. He ran the tapered tip from the base of my palm, slowly, gently, in a hot trail up until he reached the tip of my middle finger, where he curled it around the digit, looping it nearly twice around before slowly retracting the slick muscle to disappear behind his pale lips once again in a mockingly accurate parody of what he had in mind.

My dick twitched in the thin hospital scrubs the doctors had changed me into. The wide grin that pulled at Shiro's lips proved he felt it too from where he was pressed against me.

As he released my hand, instead settling his own black nailed one against the hard planes of my abdomen, his long fingers spread out, he spoke, his eyes still catching and holding mine.

"I won' hurt ya." His distorted voice barely made a sound, silent in the equally silent room but I heard him nonetheless. And I believed him. The doctor had made it pretty obvious that Shiro could be very dangerous, and the Incubus himself had admitted as much to me but I knew he was being honest; Shi had no desire to harm me.

I nodded, my head barely tilting to tell him I believed him and his warm hand slowly began trailing feathery touches down my side, his black nails scratching ever so lightly as his fingers followed the lines of my cut hips, following the V they formed like a map to his prize.

As his hand moved lower, so did his body, fluid and impossibly graceful, and by the time he dipped his fingers below the loose, elastic waistband of my borrowed pants, he was settled between my legs and I was hard as a rock. He didn't release my gaze until his fingertips brushed against my already throbbing member, pulling the pants away with his other hand as he did.

His golden eyes dropped from mine to glance down, take in the sight I presented him with. Again that hunger flashed behind his inverted eyes and the blue tip of his tongue peeked out from between his pale lips before he grasped the base of my cock in a firm grip, giving a teasing stroke, like he was testing, tasting and getting to know it before he did anything else.

Apparently I gained his approval and his grin widened as he lowered toward my straining member, nostrils flared slightly as he continued to pant in the fatigue I knew he was trying to ignore, the hunger he would soon sate. That long, slender tongue slithered from between his lips again, licking a hot, wet trail from the tip of my cock to the base before the azure appendage wrapped around it and he hollowed his cheeks as he slowly sucked his way down.

As wet heat engulfed my cock, my hands fisted into the sheets, my toes curling as his tongue continued to work my erection and he pulled back up only to lower again. He picked up his pace, bobbing up and down over my cock until I was practically writhing in place, fighting to hold still and not thrust up into his hot mouth.

He swallowed around my straining member, teasing the slit with his tongue as he did so and I tried desperately to muffle the aroused and groaning curse that tumbled from my lips. I failed miserably but again, I could hear my voice and Shiro glanced up, letting me know he could as well, yet it seemed like it made hardly any sound. It was like hearing something through glass, muffled but clear all the same.

He chuckled at what he did to me, at how he made me react and how my breathing was picking up as he worked his wet tongue and hot mouth over my erection. It wasn't meant to be a mocking sound, it was just how Shiro was and the sound, the vibration from his muffled amusement pushed me further toward loosing myself.

"Fffuck...Sh...Shi..." I panted his name between the moans I was still trying to hold back. He glanced up at me, those tantalizing eyes filled with hunger and arousal all at once, and smirked around my cock, humming a questioning sound and knowing it would drive me insane in the best of ways.

Unable to help myself any longer, I toyed with a lock of his long, feathery mane before driving my fingers through it, tugging gently as my head tilted back against the pillows. He hummed again, an approving sound as he picked up his pace and sucked harder, the vibration sliding along my dick and making me moan in pleasure. I bared white teeth, eyes squeezed shut as I enjoyed his ministrations and a pulsing heat began stirring to life in my gut.

Warm fingers slid up the inside of my thigh before cupping and massaging my balls. The unexpected contact had my eyes snapping back open, a gasp falling from lips as I looked back down at him. The sight that greeted me was nearly enough to make me cum right then.

Shiro's vivid eyes were still aimed up to capture mine, open hunger and lust swirling in their depths as his tongue and mouth continued to subject me to the best torture. One hand was busy toying with my balls while his other was reached around behind himself, disappearing from my line of sight. Fire spread through my belly, consuming me and what was left of my mind but it wasn't the same kind of insanity I had always loathed and feared and I welcomed as the fire threatened to eat me from the inside out.

"Shiro...I...I'm ganna..." I didn't get to finish what I was trying to warn him of as he smirked up at me, giving another, almost forceful suck while his skilled tongue played with all the right spots. I came with a grunt, a sexy one that received an aroused moan from the pale demon as the sticky strands of my release filled his mouth.

He swallowed around my member before pulling away with a quiet pop, licking the head before he licked his lips, careful not to let a drop of my seed go to waste. He already looked better, his form a little more solid and no longer flickering in and out but his eyes held an almost glazed look as he sat up, the tenting in his own clothing obvious. I knew before he said anything that he was far from sated, still hungry from going so long without and still in need of his own release.

Shiro crawled forward, somehow managing to slip out of his pants as he did so. The robe like article that sufficed as his top had disappeared long ago, before we started, though I was too distracted to care when or where it had been discarded. He straddled my hips, fully naked, his body muscled to a lean, mouth watering perfection under his colorless skin. The specter of the man easily had my cock straining and almost painfully hard all over again. Pale hands clenching to the white sheets beside me, he leaned forward, hot, panting breaths fanning across my jawline and neck.

"M...more..." He mumbled, his lilting voice airy and needy in a way that had me arching away from the bed, brushing our straining members together. I ran my hands up his arms, feeling the way his toned shoulders seemed to tremble before dragging them down his muscled back until I was gripping his slim, milky hips.

The pale entity straightened over me, his petal soft lips parted as he continued panting, and reached behind him to grab the base of my cock as he lowered himself down onto it. With a drawn out, sexy moan that was nearly a growl, he threw his head back as I slowly lifted my hips to help him seat himself.

Once fully sheathed, I settled back against the bed in an effort to give him a moment to adjust but he seemed to have other ideas. Shiro rose up on his knees, leaning forward again to brace himself with his hands on my shoulders. He dropped, sheathing my cock within his tight passage in a single, swift motion that snapped the last of my control.

My hands gripping his hips hard enough to whiten my knuckles, I lifted him back up, helping him slam down again as I pistoned up into his tight heat. The corded muscles of my arms flexed as I all but lifted him on my own, dropping him back down and dragging panting moans from his exposed throat, his head tossed back and long hair spread about as if flowing with an unseen current.

Using what little of my brain that wasn't clouded in my pleasure, I realized he was still too warn down to put this much strain on himself. I could feel him trembling and the longer I pounded up into him, the worse his trembling got but there was no way either of us were about to stop.

In a swift motion, I used my hard earned strength to carefully role us over, gently placing the smaller male underneath of me and cautious of the edge of the narrow bed. I don't think Shiro was really used to being on bottom like this, even if I was already the one penetrating. He gave me a startled look, his body freezing up for a split second before the look melted into a heavy lidded, lust darkened one and he moaned as I reentered him with teasingly slow motions. I guess his surprise made sense, I can't imagine too many guys really being willing partners to a demon, let alone a gay Incubus but I didn't put much thought into it.

I set a quick and brutal pace, enjoying the spectrum of pleasured faces I could make Shiro show me as he moaned and writhed beneath me. I pounded into him, his pale legs wrapped about my waist as I held myself up with one arm and gripped his hip with the other hand.

The less than stable hospital bed squeaked and groaned slightly and Shiro did nothing to hold back his pleasured sounds but being caught was the furthest thing from my mind. He would later inform me that noise wasn't a factor during our little romps, as he was able to throw up a sort of sound barrier, which explained why I could hear his needy moans, yet they made no sound at the same time.

"Growl fer me...Grimm..." He bid me under his breath, his lilting voice dropping to a slightly deeper tone though still holding it's distorted quality. Black nails anchored into the muscle of my back as Shi did his best to meet my thrusts and I gave up keeping quiet.

I all but snarled, letting my lip curl as I growled and moaned my own pleasure, the sounds deep and rumbling in my chest. They seemed to drive Shiro wild and as I pounded into him, he rotated his hips slightly, helping me find what would finally send him over the edge.

The instant I struck his prostate, his entire body tensed, the muscle of his abdomen tightening and forcing the muscle of his entrance to constrict as well, hugging my cock in an embrace that was almost too tight. He gasped, arching away from the bed, one arm wrapped around my neck to pull me close while he wrapped the fingers of his other hand around his own member.

The heated, silken walls I was thrusting into convulsed, pulsing almost in time to Shiro's stroking and his lilting voice cried out as his movements became erratic. With a word that I'm still convinced came from no human language, the ropy strands of Shiro's release coated his hand and his belly, blending with his pale complexion. Not a moment later, I followed him with my second release, emptying all that I had left to give him deep within his entrance with one last thrust.

Shiro fell bonelessly to the bed, flat on his back and panting but already looking much healthier, much more like I knew he should have and not quite so see through. As I looked down at him, I had to fight not to collapse on top of him, my own body beginning to tremble with the exertion and strain I was putting on it and begging me to give it a rest.

I puled out of the demon, a little amused when he curled his upper lip at the feel but made no other signs of moving. Slowly, he pried his eyes open to look at me, the fire back and swirling in their golden depths. I happily maneuvered myself beside him before collapsing, wrapping my arms around him to pull him close and revel in how solid he felt against me.

It didn't take long for sleep to claim the both of us and I drifted off with a slight upward curve to my lips as Shiro's breathing evened out in his sleep, deep and steady and no longer the exhausted pant it had been.

I woke up a few hours later to the door being opened and the doctor slipping in to check up on his patient. A quick burst of embarrassed panic flashed through my mind before I realized that while Shi was still curled up against me, his back to my chest and my arm wrapped around his waist, he was fully dressed once again and my pants had been pulled back up as well, the sheet pulled up to cover most of my still bandage wrapped upper half. He had once again managed to maneuver about and even redress me without awaking me.

Turns out that's one of the perks to him being a demon; since Incubi normally come to humans to feed at night, they have an ability that allows them to sort of control a human's state of sleep, so that they wont wake up. It works sort of like a light hypnosis, but Shi only uses it against me for surprisingly sweet things seeing as he likes me awake to 'feed'.

The doctor's gaze landed on Shi, now impossible to miss as his pale complexion nearly glowed, solid and substantial, alive, unweakened and back to his rightful, frightening strength once more. Narrowed brown eyes traveled away from the demon to see that I was awake before the man quietly stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, leaving the lights off as I had requested hours ago. The doctor's concern showed openly on his face and I was pretty sure he had figured out what had occurred but he didn't comment and I ignored it.

As the doctor took another step toward the hospital bed where Shiro and I lay, I felt the entity stiffen against me, a tangible, protective aggression whirling in the air about him and enveloping me before he relaxed and I felt him wake up, like something stirring to life in my mind. The doctor must have felt the burst of aggression as well and he froze mid step, eyes wide and looking a little surprised before the feeling dissipated as quickly as it came and he carefully edged closer.

"You two seem rather protective one another." The doctor's voice was quiet but of a neutral tone, deep and almost fatherly. His statement was simple but I was once again rocked by such an innocent and obvious truth. He was right. Shi had, in a matter of a couple days, become my best and only friend and within a matter of hours, had become much more.

I shrugged in answer to the doctor's observation. Shiro grinned, his pale lips curling into a too wide, almost creepy smirk that suited him quite well as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"I like him."

"I like 'im."

My deep, grating tone blended with his lilting, distorted voice and neither of us moved, both a little taken by surprise. The doctor's narrowed eyes widened before he let a small smile crease his lips and he shook his head in slight but good natured exasperation.

"Kids these days." He said, sounding amused and like he was finally going to quit warning me about the dangers of having an Incubus around. Perhaps he finally realized I didn't really care much about risks, nor that he wasn't human. "How are you feeling, Mr..." A scowl instantly creased my brow, lip curling to show off white teeth. "...Grimmjow?"

"Tch." I huffed quietly, but at least he didn't call me by my surname. "Ready to leave."

Beside me, Shiro smirked through a yawn, looking well rested but more than happy to stay where he was curled against me. Standing near the bed, an ugly red and yellow tie peeking out from under his white lab coat, the doctor chuckled, a goofy smile on his face.

"I bet you are, you don't seem the type to sit around." The man said, glancing down at the chart in his hands. "Well, before we decide, let's take a look at how you're healing up."

Shiro grudgingly sat up, unwrapping himself from me to sit up. Stiff and still a little sore from the activities of the night before, not that I minded one bit, he helped me sit up as well before he hopped the rest of the way off the bed and stepped back to give the doctor room.

The older gentleman placed his chart beside me on the bed and gently but quickly began removing the bandages plastered to my torso that hid the wounds caused by something that shouldn't have been able to hurt me. He didn't ask any questions about what had happened, like he already understood while he looked over my ragged but healing wounds. I never thought I would miss the surgical precision that thing had used while I slept.

All the while, Shiro's fiery, watchful gaze took in everything the doctor did, every move he made and every time his hands came into contact with my body. It was a wonder he didn't burn a hole into the doctor with those inverted eyes of his.

Finally, after taking his time looking me over, the doc pulled up his chair and sat down, settling the chart containing all my medical records on his lap while he looked up at me. He made himself comfortable before he said anything, just looking at me and making me paranoid, wondering what was going on and what he had to tell me. I felt Shi's own nervousness, though it wasn't strong, it was still there in the air.

"How about the good news first?" The doc asked, a neutral but friendly look on his scruffy face. He didn't wait for a reply before he began. "You're healing up quite nicely and I'm not sensing anything leftover that would cause complications later, evidently whatever did this to you didn't plan on killing you."

I just stared at him. He had a funny way of delivering his 'good news'. After a pause in which I remained quiet, he continued.

"The bad news is that I don't know what that means. I'm going to be honest with you, both as a doctor and as someone who knows a thing or two about the paranormal. You are different, I can't say how or why, I don't know that much, but I have my doubts that what's attached to you is going to leave you be. It seems it purposely stopped when it did. That could mean that it's still looking for something, it's still dangerous. Or it could have just been seeking a taste, and it may have satisfied it's curiosity. I really don't know."

Again the man paused, looking over at Shiro before returning his gaze to me. It was almost like he was talking to us both, as if Shi was a normal human standing in the room with me, someone who he thought needed the information as much as I did.

"You could try moving, but the story seems a bit deeper than what I can see here." He motioned toward my banged up but unbandaged abdomen. "So I'm guessing that it wouldn't do you much good..."

He trailed off, an apologetic look sliding across his features but he didn't break eye contact and I understood what he was telling me. He couldn't offer me help and he didn't know how I could help myself. I nodded my understanding and his dark brows furrowed slightly but he glanced down at his chart, shuffling his papers a bit before starting again.

"On to the next thing I'd like to talk to you about." He said, setting aside the chart altogether and leaning back in his chair. "When you were brought in, the police had a lot of questions...When your neighbors called, what was found wasn't very normal, and obviously neither was the situation... They wanted answers, both from me and from you."

My features remained neutral but I couldn't help as a touch of trepidation bubbled up in my gut. I didn't want to talk to them, didn't want them to find out what was going on. I knew I wasn't crazy, I no longer questioned my own sanity, but that didn't mean that they wouldn't dig into all that had been documented as being wrong with me. If that happened, there was no telling what would happen and I would be arrested or dead before I ever let someone drug me up again.

A hand, light as a feather, settled on my thigh and I jumped before realizing it was just Shiro, my electric eyes wide with my surprise and unease. He gave me a look that spoke volumes before he hopped onto the bed and sat next me, offering me a comfort I had never had before.

"I told them what I could of your injuries, at least what would be acceptable. The report I gave said that I couldn't determine what kind of weapon, but that it seemed like some sort of crude blade. Couldn't just tell them claws..." He shrugged, his goofy grin tugging at his lips for a second.

"I also told them that after you woke up, there was very little you could remember about the assailant, it was dark and you didn't get a good look; male, bigger build, since he would have had to be pretty strong to over power you judging by the looks of you. I also told them you thought his features were hidden by a mask or maybe a hood of some sort. I tried to hint that they shouldn't be pushing you for answers, that it was a delicate situation and I think I got that across, but I can't promise you that they wont come for some answers after they realize you've been released."

I nodded again, more than grateful for what the odd doctor had told the police on my behalf and hoping that they would leave me be so that I wouldn't have to deal with them. Beside me Shiro spoke up.

"Zat mean yer lettin' 'im go home now?"

The doctor chuckled, his serious demeanor once again hidden behind a goofy smile and kind eyes. "It does!" He proclaimed, jumping from his seat, letting the wheeled office chair roll backward and tucking the chart under his arm. "We'll get you a shirt to wear home, do you have a ride?"

"Uhh..." I paused, trying to think. There was really only one person that came to mind that would probably be willing to help me out. Normally, I would have just walked home, even though I was clear on the opposite side of the city, but seeing as my body still wasn't feeling up to par, walking really didn't seem to be an option. "Yeah, if I can borrow a phone. My employer would probably be willing to come get me." I told the doctor, voice deep but on the quiet side.

He started speak, but the intercom in the room clicked on, fuzzing to life before a female voice asked for Dr. Kurosaki to go to the front desk immediately. Brows furrowing, the doc looked at me, his confusion evident.

"I'll be right back." He mumbled before turning to hurry from the room. Before he could get far, I scooted from the bed and crossed the room to open up the door and poke my head out, calling for him to wait up.

"Is it alright for me to follow you? I can call my boss while your doing whatever you need to..."

The man grinned, his eyes darting to look over my shoulder where Shiro stood just behind me, his form partially hidden from the bright lights of the hallway. "Sure." He said, sounding all too happy.

We headed down the hall, probably a little slower than the doctor would have liked, but I wasn't feeling up to keeping much of a fast pace as I stretched and strained my wounds. He didn't say anything about it, though and didn't seem like he was terribly concerned.

My shirtless state got a few odd looks, not all of which were bad ones. Even beaten up and bruised there was no hiding the body I had but I would still welcome a shirt, if only to avoid having to explain all the stitched up gashing and draw less attention to myself. We paused inside an office of sorts, the doctor opening up the door with his keycard. I didn't follow, but a he spoke and a moment later a woman came out carrying an extra large, white shirt with the hospital's logo and name across the back.

I gratefully accepted it and was in the process of gingerly pulling it over my head as we walked when the doctor let out a loud and cheerful greeting, stopping and making me nearly run into him. I pulled the shirt down the rest of the way, adjusting the loose cloth over my abdomen so that it didn't catch on any of my stitching before I looked up to see the doctor talking to a woman that stood behind the front desk.

As I watched, a frown tugged at the normally happy man's features and he shook his head. The two spoke for a moment in hushed tones and the woman subtly pointed toward the waiting room while she explained, the only thing I was able to garner from the quiet conversation being that someone whom wasn't supposed to be there was demanding to see a patient not fit to see the visitor.

The doctor's brown gaze flickered over to where I stood in the doorway, just barely edging into the large room. The frown didn't leave his face and he glanced toward someone in the room, the person the woman had been talking about.

A bad and familiar feeling crawling into my stomach and up my throat, I leaned around the edge of the door frame and followed the doc's line of sight to see the man I had never wanted to see again. Standing in the waiting room, arms crossed and an angry, annoyed look on his face and arguing with a different hospital staff member was my bastard of a father.

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**Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think~  
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	7. Chapter 7

**Sooo...after making you wait forever and a half for this to update, I finally have another chapter written and you finally get to see what happens as Grimmjow's father shows up again  
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**Enjoy!  
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Standing in the hospital lobby was my bastard of a father, the man I had never wanted to see again, a man I would have claimed no relation with if I could have gotten away with it, if the color of our eyes and our similar stature didn't give it away. He was pissed off, I could see it in his eyes and written across his features. I didn't know how he had found out I was there or why he had come and I didn't care. I wanted him gone. The sooner the better.

A sneer curled my lip, anger flaring to dangerous levels, levels that promised trouble and guaranteed a bad outcome. Shiro raised an ashen brow at me while the doctor shot me a glance that told me to stay put, that he'd take care of it before he turned to face the waiting room. I quickly ducked back out of sight before I could be seen as Dr. Kurosaki plastered a pleasant and slightly goofy smile onto his face and approached the man I hated calling my father.

I grit my teeth and clenched my hands into fists. There was no chance in hell I would allow that bastard anywhere near me. I leaned back against the cool wall of the hallway, just beside the door way, hoping that the doctor would be able to send him on his way without much of a fight, but that wasn't how things went between myself and my father and it wasn't meant to be this time either. Nothing could ever work out that easily for me.

If there was one thing that I would admit to inheriting from my father, it was his temper and as the doctor attempted to speak with him, his temper flared as dangerously as mine did.

"How dare you tell me I can't see my son." I heard my father's growling tone grow louder, more aggressive as the two spoke. "The police were banging on my door looking for answers about an incident I knew nothing about and you tell me he isn't taking visitors?"

I snarled at how he attempted to act like a good parent, at how he almost sounded like he cared about what had happened. Standing in the door way, watching the interactions and knowing that he couldn't be seen, Shi's eyes cornered to look over at me, to see what my reaction to all this was. He recognized my anger for what it was and a bitter, pissed off expression settled on his features as he took a single step toward where my father and the doc stood in the waiting room, wanting nothing more than to give the man what he deserved.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I cannot make exceptions..." The doctor told my father in a calm tone, still trying to cool the man's temper and keep things under control.

"I am his father!" That bastard shouted, his voice loud and booming and enough to make the few other visitors near by start to murmur.

"Even if my patient was in any condition to be seeing visitors, he is an adult and therefor has the right to determine if he wishes to see anyone. If he changes his mind, he will be allowed to call you himself or someone will call for you."

"He is hardly an adult." My father hissed back at the doctor, his voice dangerously low but not all that quiet, uncaring who would hear him or what they would think. "He is a child, a mentally unstable one at that. He-"

Before he could say anything further, Isshin cut him off with a stern and professional voice that left little room for argument. "He is under my care and I will determine when he is fit for visitors. Until then, you need to leave or security will escort you."

By this point, I was nearly shaking with rage, fuming with seething anger. Every hard line of muscle I had was taut and tensed to the point I could feel my stitching pull and the dull ache in my wounds flare but I didn't care. I almost welcomed it, like the pain could bleed away some of my overflowing ire.

How could he stand there and say those things, how could he still think so little of me, still think that I was a child? I had never had a real childhood thanks to that man and yet he thought he could call me as such, thought that he could just suddenly show back up in my life after not being around since long before I had moved out and begin pretending that he really cared about me and about what had happened to me. How could he think he had any right to show up and mess up all that I had fought to finally bury when I had left?

I knew it shouldn't have bothered me. His opinions didn't matter. He didn't matter. He shouldn't have been able to affect me, his words shouldn't have crawled under my skin and churned my gut the way they did...but...

...he was supposed to be my father...

If he had really cared, he would have been pacing the halls while I lay unconscious for an entire day and night, he would have been seated by my bed side, worried and nauseous while he watched as the doctor's stitched my flesh back together after the EMS ride I couldn't remember. Dr. Kurosaki had let it slip that they had tried calling him before I had woken up to tell them not to. That bastard hadn't even bothered to acknowledge the message they left him. Some father he was.

I wanted to storm out into the lobby, get in his face and tell him what a shitty parent he was. I wanted to make it known that he had never been a true father, had never been there when I needed him and that he wasn't now either. I wanted to tell him what had happened and tell him that I wasn't crazy now and I had never been, that it really had happened and that I had the physical marks to prove it. I wanted to count out all the times he had medicated me, all the little pills he had shoved down my throat and return the favor until he choked.

But opening my mouth would have only gotten me in trouble, would have drawn attention to myself, attention that I didn't need. Seeing him probably would have landed me in jail for assault and telling him the truth would have seen me in the insane asylum, medicated and strapped down in a padded room. I was helpless to do anything, helpless against him yet again and that tore at me just as much as all his lying and bullshit.

"Do not make me get the authorities involved..." My father threatened, not nearly ready to back down at the simple threat of being escorted out.

I clenched my hands into fists at my side, lip curled and nostrils flared in my anger. Pain flared through my banged up body and behind my eyes, interrupting my snarl and making me wince. Shiro's gold on black eyes flashed my way again, concern swirling there for a moment.

But Dr. Kurosaki wasn't quite done yet and more of his serious demeanor showed it's self, cold and unhappy, taking our minds off my current state. I heard him turn away from my father, walking back toward the check in desk and the lady working behind it. Once there, he caught my eye momentarily before instructing the woman to call security, then he turned back to my father, his arms crossed over his burly chest and a firm expression on his features.

"Mr. Jaegerjaquez, I do not respond well to threats and I can assure you that I am very much within my rights as a physician and the authorities would be powerless to change the situation. I can also guarantee you that my lawyer would love to put an end to this issue for me if you do not begin cooperating and leave my hospital peacefully."

Damn. This guy's show of power was hardly subtle and it was certainly terrifying. He stood where he was for a moment, eyeing my father like he was daring the jackass to try something else before he turned his back and headed back in my direction. The security guards should have been there any minute, everything should have been fine by that point, but like I said; nothing was ever that easy for me.

Shiro turned to me, his ashen brows pulled together, sensing something was off before I even realized it. I felt light headed, like I was going to be sick but I was pretty sure it was just a result of how angry I was mixing with whatever pain killers they had been giving me. I didn't put much thought into it.

As the doctor stepped through the threshold of the door, entering the hallway I was still standing in, my father apparently decided he wasn't quite done yet after all and followed right behind him, grabbing Dr. Kurosaki's lab coat and turning him around. I froze as he came into view, just staring and unsure how to react, almost hoping that he wouldn't notice me if I didn't move, however childish that seemed. His face was a mask of rage and I'm still convinced he was about to hit the doctor before his eyes landed on me.

I took a step back under the intensity of his gaze, seeing the surprise on his features before his anger surged again. Then I grit my teeth, my own anger welling up and flooding over the surface to match his. I straightened my back, held my head high and looked him in the eye, my own swirling blue orbs filled with cold fire that could have melted heaven and froze hell.

Off to the side, where he had been about ready to step in should my father have taken things too far with the doctor, Shiro looked from me to the older man and back. His motions were matched by Isshin as my father's fingers slowly uncurled from the doc's coat, both waiting to see what would happen. The man stood frozen for a moment, the same as I had, before he composed himself once more.

I didn't know what to expect, didn't know what was going to happen and when he took a step toward me, I edged back. I wasn't running, I was only distancing myself from him, keeping some space between us. He had never been anything but a monster to me and being close to him had never ended well. It had been beaten into me not to let him near me and that carried over even after I was no longer living near him and had had no contact with him.

My back hit the wall I had previously been leaning against before he had followed the doc and he quirked an eye brow. Suddenly, this was an old dance, familiar routines we had played out nearly every day of my high school career, once in the morning and again in the evening. I seen it, he seen it. I knew what would happen next and so did he and I couldn't stop it.

He took another step, reaching out to grab hold of my upper arm like I was a child, no matter that I out weighed him now with the muscle mass I carried on my large frame. Lightening flared through my skull. The dull, light headed feeling pulsed, weakening my knees and making my vision blacken before all the colors suddenly seemed too intense, too bright.

Panting already, I weakly pushed at him, trying not to let the visions that I knew were creeping up on me filter through my mind. I could feel them claw at my sense of awareness, fighting to push out what was in front of me so they could take it's place.

"D-don't touch me. Get off." I growled at him, grabbing hold of his wrist while I tried to back further away, only hitting the wall. He tugged at me and pulled on my arm, saying something but I couldn't hear his words, only the familiar, outraged tone of his voice. I felt his other hand grab hold of my other arm as he shook me and tried to pull me with him, shout the whole time but I wasn't going anywhere. He couldn't have made me and he would have been easy to push off if I had been able to think clearly. I could have easily over powered him now but the visions weren't relenting and I couldn't block them out any longer. They pulsed and hummed through my head, pounding on the inside of my skull, clawing at my mind and only getting blacker the longer he touched me.

I was hardly aware that I was all but screaming for him to let go, to leave me alone and get off of me. I needed him to quit touching me and go away. Stop touching me, stop touching me, stop touching me, I chanted it over and over in a near panicked voice that I didn't hear as I sank to the cold tile floor under the assault that no one else could see or feel, that no one knew was even happening.

The doctor and Shiro flew into motion. Pale hands that only myself and the doctor could see wrapped around me, tried to ground me while the doctor tried to pull my father away and Shiro's lilting voice cut through the images, the memories driving me insane. Security finally arrived, running down the hallway as the commotion erupted and stepped in immediately, finally pulling the man away and all but carrying him out of the building but the damage had already been done. The visions had already rattled through my skull and I had already seen them.

Curious and worried visitors and staff crowed around. Isshin told a nurse to back everyone away, to give us space while I panted and clutched my aching skull in my hands, looking truly crazy where I sat. Murmurs and whispers filtered through the dispersing crowd, talking about the weird incident and asking what had happened, wondering if I was ok but I didn't really hear them and wouldn't have cared anyway.

"...Grimmjow? Grimmjow, can you hear me?" I could. I could hear the worry in the doctor's voice but I couldn't respond. Still trying to sort through what I had just witnessed, his voice hardly registered and I stayed where I was sitting on the floor, my back pressed into a corner and my knees pulled up, head down and still held between my shaking hands, my wide eyes trained on the floor between my legs but not seeing it.

A hand reached toward me, the motions slow and cautions, as if the older man was trying not to scare me. Out of necessity driven habit, I flinched away slightly and a pale one lightly smacked the doctor's away before Shiro was speaking, his lilting voice quiet and soft.

No one else would have been able to see him but it didn't matter that the doctor and I reacted to him. The nurse had done what she had been instructed to do by her superior and the head doctor of the hospital and it was only the three of us in the suddenly deserted hall.

"Don' touch 'im." Shi told the doctor in his distorted voice. "He's more powerful than ya think, sometimes he sees things when people touch 'im."

I watched the doctor nod slightly from the corner of my eye as I tried to regain control of myself, the older man needing no other explanation and understanding what the ghost meant. My whole body trembled and it was hard to breathe, hard to focus on anything other than what I had seen. What I never wanted to see and what I couldn't understand.

Pale hands slowly reached out, making sure that I could see them, could recognize the black nails and who they belonged to before Shiro gently grabbed my hands with his, running his fingers over mine until he was holding my head as much as I was.

"Grimm? Ya can hear me, right?" He asked, not waiting for a response as he gently tilted my head back so that he could see my shock stricken face. "He's gone now, yer ok... I's jus' the doc an' I."

My outstretched fingers curled where they were still held against the sides of my head and under his hands, my fingers looping over and around his own as my eyes finally focused on the face in front of mine. I blinked a few times, brows furrowed before I caught his eyes. A slight smirk tugged at his features, one that promised me he was telling the truth and he began to rise, his hands pulling away from the sides of my face but still grasping my hands.

"Can you stand?" The doctor asked quietly as Shiro began helping me to my feet. He started to reach toward me again, like he was going to help but he thought better of it and simply stood by my side and at the ready should we find that I couldn't.

I nodded, swallowing around the lump in my throat but didn't say anything, my trembling hands white knuckled from how tightly I squeezed Shiro's hands and my still wide eyes directed toward the floor.

The nurse tentatively peeked her head into the hallway from the lobby, worry openly showing on her features. "Um, Sir. Mr. Jaegerjaquez was escorted to his vehicle..."

"Good. Thank you." Dr. Kurosaki said with a slightly strained smile, turning toward the nurse.

"Is he ok? Should I go get a chair?" She asked, her eyes lingering on my shivering form. I wished she would just leave. Even though there wasn't a crowd or anything, I felt stifled and almost claustrophobic and her presence wasn't helping, even if her intentions were kind.

"No, he'll be fine. Go ahead and get back to work." The doc told her before turning back to me, like he knew what I had been thinking and knew I didn't want to be around a lot of people. "This kind of thing has happened before?"

I heard what he said, kind of, but I didn't respond. No, this kind of thing hadn't happened before. True, I've touched things, people, and seen visions or memories or whatever they are but it had never happened quite like this and never with my father. When I was still living with him, the last time I had seen him, whatever was wrong with me hadn't been so strong. I hadn't been able to have these visions while numbed by the drugs he fed me. And after I had moved out, when I would touch something or someone and see their memories, it had only ever last a split second, there just long enough for me to notice before it was gone. This time, just like with the thing that had attacked me in my apartment, the visions hadn't relented until he let go of me, until all contact was lost. And...what I had seen... I could never had expected what I had glimpsed.

When I didn't say anything, didn't even show that I had heard him, the doctor looked over at Shiro for a moment before directing his attention back to me, no doubt taking note of the still upset state I was in. My breathing still quick and my body still trembling, all I wanted was to curl up, preferably with Shiro, and try to get my mind to stop reeling while I gave into the weariness that was quickly replacing the shock to my system.

"Come on, let's get him back to his room so he can rest." The doctor said to Shiro, no longer stuck on the fact that the entity was a dangerous demon, only concerned for his patient, for me and knowing that Shiro was as well.

I shook my head, still staring at the floor almost unmoving, unblinking, before mumbling words so quietly that neither had heard at first. It took them a moment to realize what I said, what I had requested. I didn't care how childish I sounded in that moment, how young it made me seem or that it showed just how young I really was. "I-I just want to go home..."

Shiro's hand tightened around my own, squeezing gently for a moment. He said something to the doctor, the two held a whole conversation but I didn't hear any of it. I just stood in the hall, trembling as Shiro squeezed my hands in his own in the demon's silent way of telling me he wasn't going anywhere and that I needn't worry, that all would be alright.

At some point I must have gave the doctor the number to my boss' cell phone, or maybe I made the call myself, but I didn't remember doing it. Of course he had agreed to come get me, he was too nice not to drop whatever he had been doing. He was more of a father than my biological one had ever been and no doubt he had been worried as hell when I had failed to show up for work for the past couple days, not even getting a phone call from me. That wasn't very like me at all. I never missed work, work was one of the few things I looked forward to.

So the three of us sat in the lobby while we waited for my ride, the doctor in a chair beside me while he checked me over and tried to discern if there was something wrong with me after what had happened, concern evident in his face. Shiro sat cross legged on the floor in front of me, between my feet and looking up at me. Ours eyes were locked, the pale entity searching through the chaos warring within my crystallin blue pools. I didn't really see his hauntingly beautiful gaze.

I only finally even registered he was there when his pale hands framed my face and forced me to look at him. He told me he would meet me at my apartment and make sure there wouldn't be anything waiting in the dark. That got a reaction out of me, the memory of him being thrown across my sitting room flashing behind my eyes. He assured me he would be fine, that he had the energy he would need to fight with it if it came down to that. Then he was walking next to me as the doctor walked me outside, a breeze tugging at the loose fitting hospital clothing I was dressed in and running through my wild hair.

My boss opened the back door of his car for me, asking what had happened and trying to get me to talk, to say anything all. Once buckled up in the back seat, I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window and shut my eyes, glad to leave the hospital behind. Dr. Kurosaki filled him in on what he could, slipping in some of the confidential information he was only supposed to give to immediate family, but seeing that my boss was the closest thing to a guardian I had, I didn't mind. Isshin knew that, Shirosaki told him before he vanished, headed back toward our apartment.

The man climbed into the driver's seat, starting the engine but we didn't start moving. He was looking at me through the rear view mirror, I knew he was, could feel his stare but I didn't care. I didn't move, just sat slumped against the door with my eyes closed, trying to shut out the world and more than ready for this day to be over. He waited until he put the car in drive and we were headed down the street to say anything.

"Grimmjow...Dr. Kurosaki told me about the break in at your apartment... Do you want to stay with me for a while? Until the police catch him?" It was a nice offer, incredibly kind and much more than anyone else would have offered, but I shook my head, opening my eyes to look out the window.

I wasn't worried about what had happened to land me in the hospital originally, not any more at least. I had other things to worry about now. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it could happen again, probably would happen again and it might even end up worse than this time. I doubted that thing was done with me, but I also knew that it could find me wherever I went. Just because I was at someone else's home didn't mean I would be safe, it may have only put my boss and his kids in danger and so I didn't want to bother.

"No." I watched the lines on the sides of the road go by, one steady, solid painted line, something constant and unfaltering but my thoughts were stuck replaying what I had seen when the man I hated calling my father had touched me, something I was never meant to see and something that would upset the entire image I had painted of the man. I wondered if he even remembered it, but then, I don't see how he could have possibly forgotten, not when his only child was a constant reminder.

I couldn't just forget what I had seen, what he had unknowingly revealed to me and I knew I would never forget my own experiences. The visions had already slipped through my mind like on a projector, grainy and gritty but real and all too clear. They replayed over and over, dark and much too familiar and I was sure he hadn't forgotten what had happened all those years ago.

The memories he had unintentionally fed me were of when my father was young, younger than myself, a mere child still living with his parents and still running to his mother's bed whenever something would go bump in the night. That child huddled in the dark, hiding under a blanket and staring with wide blue eyes at the shadowed corner of his room, watching as dark figures danced about through the bedroom or tried to scare him in the hallways. He was scared and fearful of the things he didn't understand, of the shadowed mass that took no real shape but hovered on the edge of his vision, hiding in the corners and watching him from his nightmares.

A repeat of all that I had gone through as a child. My father had been able to see it when he was young, it had terrorized him and threatened to hurt him like it had me when I had been a child. But he had grown out of it, stopped being able to see the things that I could still see, the things he claimed weren't real. He had become normal before anyone had had the chance to think he was crazy, before he had been medicated and before it had been given the chance to hurt him.

I re-closed my eyes against the nauseating monotony of watching the road go by, my brows furrowing as my mind continued to race, leaving me dizzy and wanting nothing more than bed and strong, pale arms. I didn't understand. None of it made any sense, even less than it had when I was young.

If my boss said anything the rest of the drive, I didn't hear him and the ride passed by in silence, nothing but the quiet sounds of passing traffic, the hum of the engine and the deafening whir of my thoughts.

My father knew...he knew it was real, he had to have, he had seen it with his own eyes. How could he think there was something wrong with me?

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**Oh! Happy (slightly belated) GrimmIchi day~ Even though this story has nothing to do with GrimmIchi except for the Grimm... don't mind my rambling... **

**Thoughts? Still enjoy where this is going?  
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	8. Chapter 8

**Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long! Enjoy~!  
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My boss walked me in. After pulling up to my apartment, he had insisted that he make sure I made it in alright. It wasn't that he thought I was fragile or helpless or anything like that. That was just the type of guy he was. A gentleman, a good person.

We walked down the little hallway that led to my front door in silence, the bulb at the far end of the hall flickering almost ominously for a moment as the door to the hall we had entered swung closed behind us. I stood and stared at it a moment, my apartment door, not the light, brows furrowed in thought. It was a new door. The other one had been broken in when the police had arrived. I vaguely remembered how the sirens had gotten so loud when they had broken in, how they had shattered the silence, growing as the shadows faded into nothing. That was where my memory blanked, picking back up after I had woken up to find the doctor in my room.

But the knob to my new door was still scratched from use so I figured my key would still work. I was right. They hadn't replaced the knob or the locks, just the wooden door, which would have been a bit worrying if the thing that had attacked me would have really been someone who had broken in, if the locks had been picked or if a copy of my key had somehow existed. But that wasn't what had happened and a mere intruder hardly scared me so I didn't bother worrying.

I pushed the door open and my boss grabbed the edge of my shirt, careful not to touch me, just the over sized hospital shirt. He was always careful about when he came into contact with me and he knew now wasn't a good tme. Intuitive, like a good parent should be. He gave me a look and I knew what he wanted, so I stood out of his way and held the door open for him, not making a sound.

He searched every room in my apartment, his parental side showing through and trying his best to make sure I would be ok, that there were no left over shadows, though he didn't know it was shadows he was looking for. But I did, and you can't catch shadows. He searched my sitting room, my kitchen, opening closets and checking behind doors. He made it to my bathroom and moved the shower curtain out of the way, peeking behind it. I quietly trailed behind him, wondering where Shi was as my boss made his way toward my bedroom at the end of the hall. The hall it's self was darkened, the room black and filled with shadows. All the lights had been turned off and the heavy curtain was drawn from the last time I had slept there but I could tell it hadn't been touched. No one had entered the room after I had been pulled out.

Police tape formed a rough 'X' in the door way, the broken, splintered remains of the door still hanging from the hinges, pieces strewn across the carpeted flooring. My vision trailed passed that, instantly focusing on the nearly glowing white figure standing in the middle of the dark room, looking around with a slightly lost, almost horrified expression on his fair features. I didn't like that look. I felt like I shrank, like I was somehow smaller than I had been the moment before but I couldn't look away from him as he pieced together what had happened after he had been defeated and tossed at my feet like a broken plaything.

When the lights flicked on, my boss reaching passed the tape to the light switch, he froze at the sight he was presented with. The sudden light snagged Shiro's attention and he looked up, his golden eyes locking with mine. He ignored the older man standing next to me, just looked to me with wide eyes, seeing for the first time the mess the demon entity had made of me before the doctor had patched me back up and covered the marks with white, sterile bandaging.

The blood, my blood, had yet to be cleaned up from the carpet and had been allowed to dry. The deep crimson, almost black stains splattered the carpeting, leaving an all too obvious pool where I had been found. It splattered up one wall, little red speckles streaking the white paint. The bed sat askew, the entire frame slid so it sat angled and not where I normally kept it. The mattress hung off one side, the edge touching the floor. I didn't remember hitting it or it being moved by the demon, but the proof that it had happened was clear. For all the evidence left behind that proved that something had happened, nothing remained of my shadowed attacker, like I hadn't fought against it at all. Like it really had only been shadows.

I grimaced at what I saw, finally averting my gaze as the pale entity slowly made his way toward me, still ignoring the man beside me that couldn't see him. My boss seemed to shake himself from where he had froze, staring at the mess of my bedroom. After he took everything in, he tore through the tape and resolutely continued his search, checking my closet and even under the bed before making his way to the window.

When he was finally satisfied that I would indeed be alone in my apartment, he headed back toward the front door before pausing to look at me. He knew what I would say, but he asked anyway.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay with me for a while?" His eyes darted behind me, glancing toward the shattered remains of my bedroom door that I had carefully pulled closed behind us. I didn't plan on going in there until it was fixed up and cleaned.

"Yes." I told the worried man, doing my best to keep my gaze from wondering to Shiro. "I'll be fine."

The older man didn't say anything for a few minutes, just stood there in the doorway and seemed to study me. Finally he sighed and nodded. "Ok, but please call me if you need anything..."

I could hear the almost pleading edge his tone took. He truly was worried, though I really didn't understand why. I wasn't his kid, wasn't family. I could hardly be called a friend and he really only knew the bare basics about me, and not even the important parts. I was just some weird kid that worked for him in his shop, kid with the messed up and mysterious past, the kid with the issues, but I had somehow gained his fatherly need to make sure I would be alright. I triggered his paternal instincts, like a dog protecting a stray kitten.

I nodded in answer to what he was telling me, letting him know I would. I opened the door for him and he left, looking back at me over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall. I watched the light flicker once more before gently closing my door, turning the dead bolt and placing the chain in it's slot. Not that I could keep out the real monsters.

I almost couldn't bring myself to turn, knowing that Shirosaki would be standing there, waiting for me. I wasn't used to relying on others, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to react to the emotions and thoughts that ran rampant across his expressive eyes, didn't know how to deal with the apology that sat there.

Nor did I know what to do with myself. Never before had I felt like I truly needed someone else, needed the support of another's embrace. But it was there nonetheless, that need. It was so foreign but so strong.

Finally, after minutes of staring at the closed door, I turned to look at the entity waiting so patiently for me. He understood. Shiro, a ghost and a demon, something that didn't exist in the minds of normal people nor in the science books, understood me.

As my blue gaze caught his, looking brittle like frozen glass and spread through with dark, deep cracks, he saw it. He saw as what was left of my shell crumbled and he surged forward as I finished breaking.

Panting like I had just run a 5k and trembling, I hardly felt my knees hit the floor. All I felt was him. Lean arms, almost thin compared to my own, wrapped around my much broader shoulders as Shiro pulled me close. He didn't know what was going on, didn't know what had caused me loose whatever had been holding me together, but he knew what I needed. It was more than I knew.

"I-I don't...understand..." I whispered, voice barely audible as I leaned my forehead against his shoulder, one thought trickling through my tornado of thoughts; I'm not crazy. "I'm not."

I didn't need to say it aloud. He knew what I was saying without me saying the word and his arms tightened and I felt him shake his head. He hadn't known about my childhood, he didn't know what had been forced upon me, but he knew me. Shiro knew more about me than any living person and we had hardly been acquainted more than a week, especially if you didn't count the time I had been unconscious in the hospital. He knew all my doubts, all my insecurities. He had seen the fragility of my state of mind when it had been nearly at it's least stable. And he knew my biggest fear. "No. Yer not."

That was all it took. Silent tears rolled down my face, blurring my eyes and streaking my strong features, dripping from my angular jaw. They soaked through the material of his white clothing and he rested his chin on top of my head as we sat on the floor in front of my door.

He didn't try to stop me, didn't try to quell my tears or offer pretty words of forced reassurance. The entity, not even a human, never a person once upon a time, knew I needed the emotional release and so he sat guard and watched over me as it happened, uncaring as I left the evidence of my confusion and trauma on his clothing.

I'm not the crying type, not usually, but still, I am not ashamed of my tears. The emotion was raw, torn open after scaring over long ago when I was young. I had worked so hard to get passed caring what he thought, caring that my father thought his only child was insane and needed to be medicated, only to find out he knew. He knew everything. He knew it was real and he knew what was happening to me. He had to.

"Why?" ...just why, that's all I could say. Why?

"I dunno, Grimm..." Shiro's voice was quiet, soft like my breakdown was hurting him nearly as much as it did me. "Tell me wha' happened...I can' help ya if I don' unerstand..."

I had never told anyone before, never said a word about all that I had gone through. No one knew, no one got close to me or close to knowing. But I didn't mind if he knew, so I told him. I told him everything. Starting with some of my earliest memories of when the ghosts and entities had started showing themselves to me, I told him about the first time my father got fed up with whatever was wrong with me and how much stronger than me he had been. I told him about the schools, the psychiatrists and shrinks, the meds and the first time it had hurt me. Shiro remained silent, offering his support and letting me hide in his embrace and I told him about what I had seen in the hospital, about what my father had accidently revealed to me and how bitterly it stung.

When I was done, he still remained quiet. He slowly stood, pulling me to my feet with him and wrapped his arms around my middle. I could feel his seething hatred for my father, it was wild and it whirled in his golden eyes, but something much softer sat with it, something meant for me.

"I'm sorry..." The pale demon told me, his distorted tone ragged and sincere, almost desperate to convey what he thought. "I'm sorry ya had to go through all tha' an' I'm sorry ya had ta do it alone...but I ain't sorry yer demons didn' go away wit' the drugs and I ain't sorry tha' it forced ya here...in ta my territory..."

I thought I would crush him, fracture his ribs with how hard I wrapped my thick arms around him. One arm wrapped around his lower back to pull him close, my other following along his spine so that my hand tangled into his snowy hair, I leaned low and pressed my face into the crook of his ashen neck. "Me either, Shi. Me either."

That was the one thing I didn't hate about my past; that it had thrown me where I was now, that it had driven me to the tiny apartment that just so happened to be in the pale incubus' hunting grounds.

His hands tightened in the back of my shirt as I whispered against his exposed skin, lips brushing his pulse and hot breath fanning across his neck, but he didn't move. He let me stand there and hold him close as he did the same with me.

He was all I needed. Shiro would become my drug, the medication I needed to keep my sanity. He would hold me together and pick up the pieces when I couldn't do it myself.

"Will it come back?" I asked him in a whisper, unmoving from where I held onto him. He smelled different...off.

"Eventually." Shiro's answer was an honest one, a simple one. He knew exactly what I was talking about and he knew it terrified me, but he was unwilling to lie in order to comfort me.

"But not right now..." I wasn't really asking. I could feel that it wasn't hovering around. The only shadows to surround us were of a natural origin. They were safe, harmless and lifeless.

"Not right now. It seemed...hesitant when I firs' got here." Shiro's hands slid lower across my back, settling near the base of my spine. "...I was angry..."

Shi almost sounded guilty about the admission. He didn't need to feel guilty. I knew what he meant and I knew how truly terrifying he probably was when he was angry. I almost didn't blame the shadowy thing for fleeing. "Don't be angry."

"I'm not anymore." He told me, a faint smile twitching onto his lips. I could feel it as his lips brushed across my ear, petal soft while I still buried my face in his neck.

"Good." Unable to help myself any longer, the atmosphere growing thick but not with tension, not with the dread or the confusion it had held only moments ago, I let my tongue run a slick trail against the flesh I was pressed against, tasting and enjoying.

Shiro's breath hitched, his hands again tightening in the back of the hospital shirt I wore, his black nails scraping lightly. God did I want to feel those nails scrape into the flesh of my back, digging shallow furrows into my corded muscle.

Dropping my arms so that both circled around his waist, I hauled him from the floor. It wasn't a hard task, he was pretty light and quite a bit smaller than I. He wrapped his long legs around my waist, a groan crawling from his throat as his hands anchored into my tussled blue hair and pulled my face up to look him in the eye.

"You like showers?" I asked him, voice deep and husky. Couldn't help it. We both still smelled like the hospital, like sick and antiseptic.

He tilted his head slightly, caught off guard by the odd question. A slight frown tilted his ashen lips down at the corners, almost into a cute pout but I wasn't about to tell him that and ruin the expression. The shinning, golden suns he called his iris' shone with curiosity but he didn't unwind his legs from around my waist as I carried him toward the bathroom. "I've never actually taken one..."

My blue brows rose at the admission. It caught me off guard just as much as the seemingly random question had him. I never really thought about it, but I guess it made sense that he wouldn't have ever taken one, since he wasn't human. Not a moment later, as I pushed the door open and let it bang into the wall behind it, a large, shark grin ripped across my features.

I pressed his back to the wall beside the shower and attacked the pale neck barely an inch away from my face. He groaned as my teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, his head falling back against the wall and his fingers tightening in my hair. I could feel him harden as I fiddled with the shower knobs, adjusting the temperature as quickly as I could.

Before long, we were scrambling to strip. Nearly tripping out of my borrowed hospital pants, Shiro smirked as we both realized I wasn't wearing any underwear. His smirk grew to an almost lewd grin as he gazed hungrily at my very erect length, the tip of his navy tongue tracing the seam of his lips. But before he could drop to his knees the way I could tell he wanted to, I pushed him backward, careful not to actually let him fall into the tub.

He stumbled over the edge, keeping his balance just barely as his bare feet hit the wet porcelain. The hot spray from the shower head took him by surprise, though I can almost guarantee you he'd seen me in there at least once before. Still, he jolted and looked up only to get a face full of hot water.

Holding back my laughter, I stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed. I was about to pull him back against my now naked body, but he turned his face further into the spray, his inverted eyes closed and a blissful smile on his face as his white hair darkened to a light grey as the water saturated it. Beautiful.

After a moment, he seemed to remember where he was and what was going on and he spun to face me as I wrapped my hands around his hips. He ground himself against me, both of us moaning at the slippery friction. His hands touched everything they could reach, caressing my toned stomach and chest, dragging down my back, griping my butt before sliding around to take my hard cock in his hands.

I gasped at the extra contact as he began slowly stroking. I nudged my face against the side of his neck again, eyes closed as the hot water rained upon us. My tongue found his ear, my teeth following.

Blindly grabbing the soap, I lathered us up as he continued to play and explore with his hands, finding all the ways he could to tease me and get a reaction out of me. His exploring hands froze, fingers flexing and nails anchoring into the flesh of my sides as I unexpectedly slipped a finger between his cheeks, wasting no time in plunging it deep.

A strangled word, something I couldn't understand, crawled from his throat as his head fell back and water poured down his face and ran through his long hair. His hands stopped exploring as I began working my finger in and out, in and out. Slicked by water and soap, I slid another finger in and he pressed back against my hand, baring his teeth to the ceiling, his features twisted in an angelic pleasure.

We both grew impatient for more and I pulled my fingers from his entrance at nearly the same time as he hooked a lean leg around my waist and pulled my center toward him. I pushed him back, made him lean against the back of the shower and hoisted him up, bending his waist. I grabbed the leg he hadn't hooked around my waist and pulled it up, pushing it out and spreading his legs wider. His nails clawed at my chest, carefully avoiding the stitching even in his need driven haze.

Our position was a bit precarious, but my corded body easily held him up and against the wall of the shower as the water rained down on us, hitting my broad shoulders and pouring down my bare back. I entered him with a swift, deep thrust and his body tensed and coiled below my hands and against my body. He cried out, his hands automatically traveling up, grasping my shoulders in a subconscious effort to ground himself.

I braced one hand against the shower wall beside his head, my other arm wrapped around his waist to hold him up. Pulling back drew a delicious moan from his throat, husky and distorted and just a tad deeper than his normal voice. Thrusting forward once more had both of us voicing our pleasure.

"G-Grimm!" Shiro did nothing to lower his voice and I remembered what he told me about not needing to. Growling, I continued to thrust and make more wonderful noises fall from his pale lips. "I l-like...showerssss..."

A grin pulled at my features and I leaned forward to sink my teeth into his chest, just below his collar bone.

"Good..." I growled out, letting my teeth sink deeper before finally pulling away, leaving a deep mark in my wake. It grew purple before my eyes, standing out against his pale complexion. "I usually... take daily showers." I told him as I thrust into his tight entrance, blue eyes sliding closed in my pleasure.

He hummed his love for the idea, the rumbling sound changing pitch as I flexed the arm around his waist and pulled him toward me. The adjusted grip gave me better leverage and a better angle and he nearly screamed as I struck deep inside him.

"H-harder." He demanded. I complied. I grunted with the effort to thrust harder, dive deeper and faster. His fingers danced down my torso, between the valley of my strained pectorals, along the ridges of my cut abs before they paused near my navel. "C-can I...?"

Confused, I opened my eyes and looked down, between us where his fingers hovered over his own hard length. "Oh god...yes..." I groaned out as his long fingers wrapped around his straining member.

The sight raised my arousal up another notch, something I truly thought was impossible. I growled, my voice rough and moaning as I thrust into him. His other arm snaked around the back of my neck as he stroked himself in time with my near frantic thrusts. He pushed his thumb over the head of his cock just as I struck his prostate and his entire body convulsed as his lilting voice filled the bathroom like the heated steam from the water.

As his tight passage constricted around my hard member, I buried myself deep and spilled my release as his own covered my abdomen and his hand. Panting and out of breath, nearly shaking with the intensity of our release, I slowly rested my forehead against his, letting out breaths mingle and our eyes lock.

"Shi..." I started to speak, but I don't know what I was about to say, the words forgotten as he sealed his petal soft lips over my own. The kiss was deep, heated but somehow sweet. It was pure and it burned like glowing embers.

His lips parted, his long tongue snaking out to tease it's way between mine. I allowed him to invade my mouth and he took his time exploring, whimpering softly at my taste. He coaxed my tongue to play and dance with his own before leading it into his mouth.

We pulled apart, panting even harder than we had been before and I was reluctant to set him down. The rest of the shower was quiet, peaceful and filled with gentle touches and the soft smell of shampoo. The warm water was relaxing, soothing away most of what was left of my breakdown, calming my mind and allowing me to focus on only the pale man I shared my space with.

We climbed from the tub, shutting the water off behind us. I cracked the door open to let the steam out and chill the room just a bit as we toweled off. Shiro shivered as his wet hair, cool against his heated skin, dripped down his spine and I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my features. A real smile. A genuine one.

I grabbed the towel from him and tossed it over his head, quickly but gently scrubbing it through his thick mane. He seemed a bit unsure of himself, but it was...adorable. He'd never taken a human shower before, nor had he ever had to dry off the way we do either. Shiro was a demon that fed off sex, an entity that had the power to kill and could do so without a second's hesitation but he was so innocent in the most simple of ways.

Pulling the towel away from his damp but no longer dripping hair, I wrapped it around behind him and draped it across his lean shoulders. The entity's gorgeous eyes were a bit wider than normal as he looked up at me, the barest of smirks tilting his lips. I smirked back, just one corner tilting up as I continued to rub the towel over his lithe body.

When I got to his waist, I lowered myself to my knees, trailing slow, hot kisses down his toned belly. He shivered under the attention. I brushed my lips across the prominent point of his hip bone, gently dragging the towel around his thigh, down his leg. Then the other side, again brushing my lips across the smooth, shower heated skin.

"Y-ya tryin' fer round two?" He asked in a breathy whisper.

I smirked as I stood back up, wrapping the thick towel tightly about his shoulders once more as I shrugged. "Just returning the favor and making sure you enjoy your first time."

His lilting laughter was filled with amusement and happiness, obviously understanding my meaning. It was a catchy emotion and I quickly finished drying myself off, draping my damp towel over the rack so it could dry. Shi followed my lead and unwound the one I had wrapped around him, placing it next to mine.

Leaving the bathroom, neither of us let out vision wonder down the hall as we avoided what had happened in my room and all that came with it. We wondered back out to the sitting room instead, naked and not bothering to don fresh clothing. The discoloration and ragged stitching marring my body didn't seem to bother him in the least, so I didn't let it bother me. Understandably tired and drained, I sank to the couch as fatigue caught up to me, the weariness of the hospital stay, of my unexpected encounter with my father and the pleasurable experience only moments ago.

A brilliant glow illuminating the refreshed and apparently well fed entity at my side, Shiro took my face in his hands and seemed to almost float as he gently guided me backward, his mesmerizing eyes giving away all of his thoughts for those who could see him. For me.

By the time we were positioned and comfortable, I lay on the couch, one arm stretched up and cushioned behind my head, face tilted toward the back of the couch. Shiro settled his smaller frame on top of me, his hips between my legs and his chest against my stomach. I tangled one of my legs over the back of his knee as he snuggled his face against the solid planes of my chest, his thin but deceivingly strong arms wrapped underneath of me. My other arm resting across the back of his shoulder, fingers tracing idle patterns, I closed my eyes and let his steady breathing lull me into sleep.

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**I rather enjoyed writing this chapter ^_^ It was about time these two had a bit of a break~ Let me know what you thought, please!**

**Also~ For those who haven't heard yet! ****True-Love-IchiHichi and I are collaborating on a story! It's a GrimmShiro / GrimmIchi (kinda) and it's sure to be good! Please go check it out! The first chapter is out and you can find it under our joint profile, the account name is _Love Thorne _and the story is called_ Corrupted Love. _Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

**...so... I'm so sorry I let this sit for so long... honestly, I feel terrible about it and I've really missed this au and story, but I had too much running around in my head for this story and I needed to pick which ending I wanted to give it. The other day I finally sat down and did just that! So now it's back on track again, and providing my muse doesn't hide like a little bitch again, it should update more regularly.  
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**Anyway! Enjoy~**

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After our shower and the activities that occurred during, Shiro and I took advantage of the quiet, of the fact that the creature trying to harm me and growing sick of Shiro being in the way was gone for the time being. I knew it would be back. It wasn't finished and whatever it was looking for, it hadn't found yet. Shirosaki, the pale demon I was quickly growing attached to and beyond fond of, knew it too. As sleep overtook me, I could feel his protective aggression pulsing through the room like the low hum of energy, a warning to anything that may have been sniffing about.

My dreams were white again, that blank void that I'd quickly come to realize was the demon's way of putting my mind at ease enough to sleep. In the back of my mind, somewhere in my dreaming conscious, I wondered at his need to do this, at the reason he was invading my dreams even while the entity trying to prey on me was away. Maybe he knew something I didn't. Maybe he knew he hadn't scared it away for long.

He was trying to protect me, my mind and sense of sanity, even as I slept, but in my dreams, as blank as they seemed, blackness began creeping around the edges. Shadows, light and fluttery and barely there began staining the white like thin ink being pulled into the fibers of the edge of a sheet of paper. They grew darker, more malevolent and more persistent, eager. Hungry.

All at once, the blank pulsed and pushed out the white. It streaked through the void and turned it into a dark, muddy abyss that shattered everything Shiro had thrown up in defense like it was nothing more than brittle glass. Whatever the thing stalking me was, it was strong and stubborn and old. It knew the way things worked, it was ageless, timeless and it knew how to wait. It wasn't afraid of Shiro: hesitant, cautious perhaps, but not truly frightened. It wouldn't be gone for long and when next it began sniffing around, it would bring power with it, the means needed to eliminated what stood in it's way. It would wipe out the white, darken the light. Shadows would swallow the both of us.

I bolted into a sitting position when I woke up, only hours after I'd fallen asleep curled on the couch with Shi. I pulled in a startled breath, nearly falling from the furniture as I panted and looked around with wide eyes. Nothing but empty, lifeless shadows looked back from the room around me. They were dead, void of malevolence, just the normal shadows created when a light source was blocked by something solid.

My heart pounded in my chest and against my ribs as I leaned forward, head hanging now that I knew there was nothing in my apartment but me. I rested my hand against my bare chest, feeling the wild beat of my heart as I took a deep and calming breath. Then I realized Shiro was no longer laying with me. Nor was he anywhere in the room and after sating his hunger so thoroughly only a few hours ago, he would have been easy to see even in the light from the evening sun shining through the windows.

"Shiro?" I climbed from the couch, wincing at the pull of stitches in my flesh. Never had I thought I'd find myself missing that shadowy bastard's terrifying, surgical precision. Never would I have imagined that I would miss the cuts and bruises, the damage being gone by the end of the day, no matter how crazy it had always made me feel.

I dragged my hand down my face, pushed my fingers back through my tousled blue hair as I walked around the couch and toward the entrance of the hall. The experience I had only days ago and maybe just the tiniest sliver of fear made me pause and study the natural shadows that accompanied the narrow hallway. Coming from not far down the hall, the sound of running water caught my attention and a smile twitched to life across my features as I pushed that small amount of hesitation away and crossed the few strides to the bathroom door.

From within, the shower was running and I couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped as I quietly turned the knob and eased the door open. Vague but startling dream forgotten, the entirety of my apartment seemed peaceful in a way I had never known. It was a huge contrast to what I was used to, but welcome nonetheless.

As I pushed the door open, Shi came into view. I leaned on the door frame, mesmerized as I watched him enjoy his new found love for human showers. Standing bare beneath the hot spray, his inverted and otherworldly eyes were closed, hidden behind pale lids as he tilted his face up into the stream of gentle water. His long, flowing hair hung nearly to his waist, saturated and clinging in ribbons to the lean muscle of his back, cascading over narrow but sturdy shoulders. It framed his porcelain, angelic features, made the subtle curve of pale, soft lips all the more noticeable. His arms hung at his sides and his body was relaxed and at ease.

I had always thought demons were ugly, monstrous creatures. They were the thing of nightmares, isn't that what we're all taught as children? Grotesque things that were obviously evil and distinguishable from the good guys and the holy creatures. But Shiro was beautiful. Had I not already known what he was, I'd think him something heavenly. All he needed was a pair of wings.

Slowly, he turned his head slightly and opened those startling eyes to look toward me. Gold flashed with the introduction of light, reflecting and illuminating, before they returned to what was normal for the entity. Like a cat's adjusting to the level of lighting in the room, it was a quick flash, hardly noticeable.

"Enjoying yourself?" My laugh was smooth, deep, as I pushed away from the doorframe and entered the bathroom. Inverted orbs made a quick but thorough sweep of my form as I approached.

"This has ta be the best thing humans ever came up wit'." The incubus's distorted voice was low, relaxed. He turned to face me, though never stepped out of the rain of warm water, a hopeful and slightly lewd expression crossing his features. Looking a bit less angelic with that too-wide smirk that stretched pale lips, it was easier to see the more demonic side of him that gave him his name. "Yer gonna join me?"

Nearing the shower and the being standing in the basin, an easy smile reached my features. The tile was cool and wet below my bare feet and I shook my head slightly as I grabbed the edge of the open shower curtain. I pulled it shut, though not all the way, just enough to shield the room from the water splashing from the tub and off Shiro's body.

He tilted his head slightly, curiosity shining in his depthless eyes as he watched me before looking at the plastic curtain and the bar it hung from. Understanding quickly dawned and his smirk turned into a sheepish, almost guilty expression as he realized what the curtain was for.

"Don't worry about it. It's easy enough to clean up." I told him. His smirk widened again as he leaned forward, pushing the edge of the curtain back a bit. He hooked a lean arm around the back of my neck, his damp fingers tangling in the hair at the back of my head as he pulled me toward him. Wet lips slanted against mine in a kiss that took me by surprise and made breathing impossible.

When he pulled back, his navy tongue swiped slowly across my bottom lip before he straightened and faced the spray of hot water from the shower again. He closed his eyes and raised his hands to run slim fingers through his ashen hair, an amused and pleased grin on his handsome face, no doubt able to feel as my piercing eyes raked down his stretched, toned abdomen and all it led to.

The pale demon's lilting chuckle floated from the small room as I turned and left, closing the door behind me. He didn't stay in much longer, now that he knew I was awake, and I heard the water shut off only a few minutes after I'd left that bathroom and entered the kitchen. It was like he couldn't stay away from me for long, but I wasn't complaining and I even managed to not jolt like a coward when I turned away from the fridge to find him standing directly behind me.

He smirked like he understood what was running through my head as I swallowed back my surprise and fought to keep it from showing, but he didn't say anything about it. It was a crazy thought, but sometimes it really did seem like he could read my mind, but he already knew so much about me, maybe he just knew how I'd react too. Maybe he was just good at reading body language and all that. But then, he could invade my dreams, so maybe he really could get into my head. At least to some extent. Or did that only work during sleep, when the mind had less defenses thrown up?

It was an endless loop, a cycle that would drive me insane the more I thought about it, so I shrugged it off and went back to foraging for food in my apartment. Shiro may have been full and satisfied, but now I was hungry. The incubus smirked and practically glided away, leaving me to my search.

A few days came and went. I got sick of the couch pretty quick and decided I needed to face what had happened and fix up the damage left behind in my apartment, namely the mess the shadowy demon had made of me in my room. I couldn't call the repair man, I _was_ the repair man... So I was on my own to do it, though because of renter's insurance and the way I'd been found, I at least didn't have to pay for the damages or the supplies I needed for the repairs.

It took me a couple days, between scrubbing blood and an almost oily substance out of the things that I deemed salvageable and getting ahold of the new supplies I needed. For the most part, Shiro sat near by, watching while I worked. He found a few of my struggles rather amusing and whenever I'd drop something or spit out a curse for one reason or another, his lilting voice would fill the room with his half crazed chortling. Sometimes he did his little disappearing act, but he was never gone long. An hour here or there, a few at most. I think he knew I wasn't as safe as he wanted me to believe.

He had me convinced that the shadowy thing was afraid of him, that it kept it's distance because of that fear. Shiro was stronger than it was now that he was feeding and unweakened. That's what he'd told me and I believed him. What he hadn't told me was that the thing's fear was temporary, that it was growing bold again. He hadn't told me that it was growing more powerful in the same way that I had when I matured. It had only been an infant, young despite it's near ageless existence, when I was a child, when it had first started showing itself. When it had tossed Shiro to the floor at my feet, when it had sent me to the hospital, it had only just begun to tap into it's true power again. It was coming of age. Again.

A demon for a guardian angle? Sounds odd, doesn't it? but that's exactly what Shiro was, in a sense. He was watching over me. The thing after me fed on fear and all things negative, it created chaos and it created shadows. It harvested what manifested in my mind while it was around. It knew what I was afraid of most and it did everything it could to make me think I was loosing it. So Shiro told me I was safe, he told me it was afraid of him and that I had nothing to worry about. He told me I wasn't crazy. Everything he knew I needed to hear, he told me. He was trying to eliminate my fear, trying to starve the creature lurking after me.

He was trying to prepare me, arm me for what he had to have known was going to happen.

A week went by, peaceful and quiet. There were no signs of the thing hunting me and it was only Shiro and I once more. I didn't venture from my apartment much. The few times I did I got strange looks from my neighbors, like they were trying to figure out what exactly had happened. I guess there were probably plenty of stories going around. It's not everyday a guy my size gets the shit beat out of him in his own damn home.

With the bedroom fixed up and cleaned, the nights were spent in my bed with Shi. I'm sure you can guess how that went. Afterward, he'd curl up at my side like some overgrown cat, one lean leg thrown across my own and his arm looped around my waist, practically purring at how sated and pleased he was. He looked so lively, so real and solid now that he was feeding regularly, now that he wasn't slowly dying. It was a wonder his pale skin didn't glow in the dark. His eyes did, though. Those odd, inverted orbs flashed in the dark of night, the golden irises catching even the barest hint of illumination. It didn't bother me anymore though. I didn't care that he wasn't human, or that being able to see him, feel him and talk to him made me something other than average. For the first time since I was just a kid, I was perfectly fine with not being normal.

I avoided going back to work for as long as I could afford... My boss didn't question it. I'm sure he assumed I was traumatized over the supposed break in and all that had come with it, though that was far from the issue. In all honesty, I was just afraid my father would show up. I was paranoid that after strolling into the hospital in search of me, he'd figure out where I worked and show up to confront me. It wouldn't have been hard for him to figure out where I was employed, I'd worked in the same place since high school. But I didn't want to face him, not just yet. I couldn't, wasn't ready to. Eventually I'd have to, part of me knew that, but at the time, I was content to avoid him and hope he wouldn't try whatever he'd been attempting at the hospital again.

He didn't come looking for me though. Just like when I had left his house and moved out to live on my own, he didn't even try to find me. For some reason, something about that kind of hurt. I guess some part of me, the child that had grown up too quickly, had been hoping that maybe showing up at the hospital was his way of showing he still cared. Wishful thinking.

I returned to work the day after I went back to the hospital to have what was left of my stitches removed. Dr. Kurosaki had insured he was the one to remove them, not just a nurse like was usual procedure. He had plenty of questions, but before he asked anything, he just sat and looked at me. Shiro came with me, of course, he followed me everywhere. He hovered beside the doctor's chair that I'd been instructed to sit upon, one of those big ones that are in the middle of every exam room. But the doctor didn't really pay much attention to him, despite the undercurrent of rather potent power he gave off.

After that initial study, he instructed me to take my shirt off and began removing the stitching from my chest. He finally asked his questions while he worked, questions about the thing that had hurt me. Like Shiro had told me, I told him that it was afraid of the incubus, that it hadn't shown itself since Shiro had stormed into my apartment, angry and out for blood the day I'd been released from the hospital. It was only then that Isshin finally looked over at Shirosaki. There was something indecipherable in the doctor's normally warm eyes.

Inverted gold met dark orbs unblinkingly and unhesitatingly before Shiro spoke in a calm but very telling voice. "No worries, doc. I ain't gonna let it hurt 'im again."

The doctor had seen something that I hadn't at the time. Or maybe it was less that I hadn't been able to see what was really happening, and more that I didn't want to see it. I wanted to believe Shiro. I wanted to believe it'd stay away. But Shiro was being honest, he'd never lied to me, he had just worded things in a way he knew I would take differently than he'd actually meant. But Dr. Kurosaki had been able to see what was going on. He must have understood what the demon was doing and his questioning gaze had held two meanings, as had Shiro's answer.

Shiro never lied to me, and he hadn't lied to the doctor. He wouldn't let it hurt me, not ever again, but how he would end up protecting me and putting an end to the creature stalking me wasn't quite what I had been expecting. But I think, at least to some degree, Shiro knew what he would have to do. He'd been prepared to do it.

I looked from Shiro to the doctor and back, knowing I was missing something but having no idea what it was. They just continued their silent conversation for a few more moments before the doctor nodded, his dark brows pulling together, and went back to work. Isshin had understood what the demon was saying and he probably knew as much as Shiro did of what was to come.

Like I said, I returned to work the next day and my father never made an appearance. My boss was a bit surprised when I walked through the door, but he also seemed happy, relieved even, to see me there and alright. He knew me well enough to not expect me to be in a very talkative mood, so he only asked a few, simple questions. They were things you'd expect to hear from someone who genuinely cared. He asked easy, yes or no questions; if I was ok, if I'd been back to the hospital yet, if I'd seen or heard anything about the guy that had broken in.

When he asked me if I was scared, I didn't know how to react, so I shrugged and clocked on. I got to work and busied myself so that I wouldn't have to answer that one. I think he took my actions and inability to answer as a yes. I still don't know if he was right.

That day went by so slowly. I don't think I've ever told you guys where I worked, but it was a mechanic shop, something I could do with my hands and put my muscle and large frame to use. I worked in the back, where the actual cars and parts were so that I didn't have to interact with the customers much. I just fixed their cars and occasionally handed them their keys back when they came to pick them up.

After those few days laid up in the hospital and then being off for more than a week, that first day back was exhausting. Lots of physical labor. My boss asked me if I wanted to leave early, or at least take a break. I shook my head and kept working. Shiro didn't hover at my side like he did while in my apartment. He didn't have much of a reason to, I guess. As much as I hated crowds, the thing hunting me hated them just as much. It had never come after me while I was around other, more normal people, so I was safe enough while working. But Shiro did still check in on me. He never actually interrupted me, or even really came close, but by then I was getting pretty used to the way he felt, to that surge of power that accompanied his presence. So I could feel him when he showed up, only for a few seconds while he scouted the place out and went back to whatever it was that he did while not around me.

When we finally closed up for the night and locked up the shop, I declined the offer for a ride. Despite what my boss thought, I didn't fear who might be lurking in the darkened streets. The thought of being confronted by someone with less than polite intentions didn't bother me. A living, breathing _real_ person hardly made me worry, and if that thing did show up, Shiro would be around.

So there I was, hands nearly black with grease despite trying to wash up before I left, walking down the road on my way home just as the sun began sinking below the horizon. Cars drove by, bright lights washing over the surrounding areas, as people left their own places of employment on their way home. The air wasn't cold, but it wasn't hot either and it smelled surprisingly fresh, like there was rain on the way. Makes sense, really, plenty of energy in the air to draw from. Shiro, like usual, must have known what was about to happen. I just couldn't catch a break.

As I walked back toward my apartment, vaguely wondering where he was, that surge of blank power flowed around me like an invisible fog that even I couldn't see. But I could feel it, cool and calming as it rolled over me. Not a moment later, Shi stood at my side with a wide grin, and laced his fingers with mine. The simple gesture surprised me a bit, but it wasn't an unwelcome touch. There was something incredibly sweet and soft about everything Shiro did when in my company, despite that he was a deadly creature meant to be feared rather than loved. And his touch always came vision free, which was a huge bonus. I don't think I would want to see the things his memories contained...

"This is how ya get around all the time?" He asked after a few minutes of walking at my side. I nodded and looked over at him. "You humans move slow. Too bad I couldn' jus' bring both a us ta yer place."

"You mean, like your little teleporting thing?"

He laughed in that odd voice of his but nodded, his eyes bright and lively, though maybe just a bit too watery. "s not really teleporting, but yeah, that."

"Oh." But I didn't notice that oddness to his expression at the time, maybe because I was still under the veil of the things he wanted me to believe, or maybe just because my own curiosity was in the way. "Why can't you?"

Shi shrugged, his fingers tightening around mine. "Jus' the rules I guess. 'S been tha' way since I came inta being. If I were ta go somewhere right now, even though I'm holdin' onta ya, you'd still stay 'ere and I'd arrive alone."

As if to prove what he said, he lifted our hands so that I looked and did his little disappearing act, fading from view. It was odd, I could actually feel the weight of his hand and the pressure of his fingers lessening until I held nothing at all. Then he appeared on my other side and grabbed hold of my other hand, giving me a shrug and a smirk.

I snorted a laugh and we continued walking. I was so used to people already thinking that I was crazy, that I didn't even bother to hide my reactions to him. We talked, laughed, while we walked back to my apartment, despite the almost nervous looks thrown my way by the few other people on the streets. What was new, right? I've always been "that crazy blue haired kid" only now I didn't mind. Let them look at me funny, let others think I was insane and needed to be medicated. I knew I wasn't crazy. Shi knew and even the doctor. That was more support backing me than I'd ever had.

As the smell of rain deepened and the first few drops fell from heavy clouds to patter the pavement around us, Shiro curled his lip to bare pearly teeth up at the sky, his eyes narrowed into an almost aggressive expression. I chuckled and squeezed his hand to gain his attention.

"You like showers but not rain?"

He huffed an indignant and annoyed breath and huddled closer to my larger body. "Yes. It don' rain where I'm from an' I can control the water in a shower. Can' control the rain though. An' it's cold, not hot like it should be."

I chuckled and threw an arm over his shoulders, covering him from the rain as best as I could. The trip back to my apartment took longer than it could have. It was like Shiro wasn't in much of a hurry to get back, despite his apparent hate of the chilly rain. When we made it back to my apartment complex, we ducked into the hall. Shiro grumbled unhappily about the rain and I couldn't help but find it amusing, but his good natured complaining fell away as he froze up for a moment half way down the hall to the my door. My laughter died away and all around us was silent as I looked at him, confusion and the beginnings of horrid understanding trying to worm it's way into my gut.

Still, I was young, naive, and Shiro's hand was still locked with my own, his fingers intertwined in mine. He looked up at me, his too wide smirk stretching one side of his pale lips. I didn't want to see what was going on, so I didn't.

"Ya know, this is odd." He told me, lifting our hands so that my blue eyes looked at them again before going back to his gaze. "I'm supposed ta be a demon. I kill an' feed from humans. Yer supposed ta be food. Nothin' more. But ya ain't. B'fore ya ended up here, I didn' even know I could fall fer anythin', let alone a human. I didn' know demons could love anythin' but themselves..."

I didn't know what to say, or how to respond. I knew very little about Shiro, beyond what he was and how he fed, but it'd never bothered me. It wasn't that he hid who he was or that he avoided telling me, it just never got brought up. It just didn't really matter. But what he was saying, his confessions, they were something out of a movie almost, right before the main character does something stupid. It made something sink in my stomach.

I should have known...nothing can ever work out that easily for me. I should have seen what Shiro was doing. I should have known it wasn't done with us. I should have realized it wouldn't be so easy. But I hadn't known because Shi hadn't wanted me to. He'd wanted to protect me, keep me from being afraid and I trusted him.

"But I care about ya, even though I'm not a human. " Shiro's fingers tightened around mine and his gaze slid away as he headed toward my door again. "Ya b'lieve me, right?"

His voice was quiet, off. I frowned, but nodded as I trailed behind him. "Of course I do."

I unlocked the door and stepped inside, Shiro next to me. He cast a wary gaze around, but all seemed quiet still, empty like it should have been. He looked up at me with a smile, all traces of his previously odd mood gone too fast for him to really be over whatever it was. "Ok. Jus' makin' sure."

The rest of that evening went smoothly, quiet and alone, it was just the two of us. I tried to introduce him to movies. I figured he liked showers so much, maybe he'd like other normal human activities too. It didn't really work out that well though, but I guess that was probably my fault. I tried a scary movie, something with ghosts in it. He found it laughable, to put it nicely. He thought our portrayal of ghosts and ghouls and phantoms was ridiculous and felt the need to correct everything in the movie and tell me all about how things really worked. I have to admit though, if he'd been the one directing the movie and it had been more accurate, it would have been a hell of a lot scarier. Suddenly, the shit that used to give me nightmares looked like a tea party.

Half way through the film, I gave up and shut it off. I was worn out from work anyway. I probably would have been half asleep through it anyway if Shi hadn't been scaring the pants off me with his real ghost stories. After he finished telling me of a particularly nasty type of creature that tended to disguise itself as a cute little fairy, he seemed to realize he wasn't doing me any favors and decided to end my misery for a while.

He flashed me a sheepish smirk, maybe even a little bit of guilt swirling in those intense, golden eyes, as he stood from the couch and suggested we went to bed for the night. What I expected to happen, what happened nearly every night, not that I ever complained about it mind you, didn't happen. When I stripped down and climbed into bed, of course he crawled in after me, but when he slid up to me, wrapped himself around me, there was nothing needy in it, nothing...hungry, only softness and sweet touches. He feathered his fingers up my belly, along my chest until he found my heart beat, where he simply settled his palm flat. He kissed his way up my throat, followed my jaw line until he found my lips, but there was nothing heated in it, only something pure and something honest. Without words, he was telling me what he wanted me to know, what he _needed_ me to know.

I ran my fingers through his long hair, brushed it out of his face and tucked part of it behind his ear as he finally pulled out of the kiss. He didn't say anything and neither did I. We just enjoyed each other, studied each other. I understood what he was saying. We didn't need the words. Then a contented little smirk tugged at his perfect features and he lowered himself so that his head rested beside his hand, over my heart. Wrapping my arms around him, we fell asleep like that.

I had vaguely wondered about all his sweet, innocent little things throughout that evening, but how was I supposed to know? It's not like he had ever been hard, or violent or anything like that with me. He was always surprisingly gentle, but this was different. I just didn't know how exactly it was different. Not until later that night. Later, it would become obvious.

Later, it would haunt me.

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**Thoughts, please?  
Again, sorry for making you guys wait so long feel free to yell at me **


	10. Chapter 10

**Before you guys decide to hate me, keep in mind that this is _NOT_ the end of the story, ok? Open minds, right? we're dealing with the paranormal here, anything can happen... **

**Enjoy!**

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It was the middle of the night when everything finally began falling into place, when the main event was set into motion at long last. This moment had been in the making for a long time, much longer than I knew at the time. Three in the morning rolled around with the tail end of the storm that had started earlier in the evening. Like I said before, plenty of energy in the air. Lightening flashed in the dark sky of the not so distant horizon and rain pelted against the window in my bedroom. I felt Shiro shiver against me but I was still half asleep, just on the verge of trying to wake up but not really wanting to. I thought it was because of the rain he hated so much, so I tightened my hold on him and pulled the blankets further over us. He chuckled against me, his face buried against my chest and his hands clutching almost desperately at me. His lilting voice was quiet, trying not to wake me up the rest of the way.

"S'alright...go back ta sleep." He whispered, his distorted tone almost musical and relaxing. With him running his fingers soothingly through my hair and his lean body pressed warmly against mine, I happily started to do just that.

I don't know how long it was until I stirred again, couldn't have been long though. A deep sleep didn't seem in the cards and when Shiro moved, I was once more pulled back to that precipice of wakefulness. But it was still way too early to get up and so as he shifted, attempting to pull away from me a fraction at a time, I grumbled something unintelligible and pulled him back against my chest.

A very small sound escaped him, something close to a sigh but not quite. He turned a bit, brought his hands up to frame my face as he pressed his lips to mine. That helped to wake me up a bit, but again, there was nothing heated in it, just softness. Lightning flashed across the dark sky again, followed by the loud crack of thunder. Shi broke the kiss as he flinched, but he only put the smallest of space between us as he looked down at me.

I finally began to wake up enough to realize something was very wrong, very off, that it wasn't just the rain and the storm effecting Shi. Frowning, I studied the set of his features. He'd yet to remove his hands from the sides of my face and the expression he was wearing, the look in his inverted eyes, made something sink in my chest. I think, somewhere in the back of my mind, I'd already figured it out. I knew what he was going to do, but I couldn't accept it, couldn't handle it, so I refused to acknowledge it and remained confused. And now worried too.

I don't know why he didn't do his disappearing thing. It would have been a lot easier for him to get up, to get me to stop stalling him. He probably could have done it while I was still half asleep and I wouldn't have realized he was gone until it was too late. I don't know why he allowed me to wake up at all, to be honest. He was fully capable of using his hypnosis crap. He was a demon, it's not like he had a set of rules towards the humans that he had to follow or anything, but I think maybe he wanted me to be awake, at least part of him did. He wanted me to know what was going on. He wanted me to know why he was doing what he was doing.

He wanted me to know that I would be safe.

Rubbing my hands up his back, I could feel how tense he was. The lean muscle along his spine was rigid. The muscle in his shoulders, his arms, was coiled and ready. He was practically trembling with apprehension and the need to get it over with where he hovered over me, still looking down at me. I searched his eyes, saw his regret, the hurt, a tiny bit of fear maybe, but there was something much stronger than all that shining back at me. A wordless declaration from a demon with good intentions and more of a heart than most humans I knew.

"Shi?" I played with a few silky locks of his hair where it fell between his shoulder blades, still looking up at him and dreading what would happen when he finally did move, when he got out of bed. "What's going on?"

"Everythin's gonna be fine." He told me as he sat up and scooted to the edge of the mattress. A small smirk found his lips, soft and genuine, and his golden eyes never left my form. "I promise, Grimm... It's gonna be ok."

Those were the scariest words I've ever heard. They whispered of the exact opposite of what Shiro told me, despite his promise, despite the soothing tone to his voice. It wasn't going to be ok. Nothing would be the same after that night.

"What's going on, Shiro?" I asked again, sitting up as I watched him. I started to push the blankets off so that I could get up, but his hand settled over mine. I was rendered motionless with that simple touch. All I could do was sit and watch him as he shook his head in the smallest of gestures.

"Ya stay 'ere. _Right 'ere_. Don' move." His watery voice was quiet, insistent and very telling. It was hushed like he didn't want anything but me to hear him, but it should have only been us in the apartment.

As he moved to stand, something over his shoulder caught my attention. He knew when I finally saw it, I could see his features twist with misplaced guilt out of the corner of my slowly widening eyes. Behind him, hovering just inside the room, shadows roiled and bubbled in on themselves. The hallway beyond and the door were blocked from view as something solid and malevolent formed, fighting against the barrier Shi threw up to protect me. He was keeping it away again, but he wasn't keeping it far, not like he had when we first met. He could have, I think, but he wanted it to draw near, not near to me, but near to himself. He wanted me to watch, I think. He wanted me to know what was happening so I would know when it was finally over.

"Don' be afraid..." He whispered to me. He didn't look back at it, he could feel it easily enough and knew where it was and what it was doing. Instead, the demon's attention remained on me. His quiet words were enough to pull my attention back to him, away from my personal nightmare. "Ya won' have ta be afraid ever again."

Bending slightly, he pulled me into another kiss. There was so much in that quick brushing of lips, everything a demon shouldn't have felt, perhaps, but he did anyway. Over as quickly as he'd initiated it, he straightened to his full height and set his features into something more grim, something more stern and angry and determined. I finally scrambled from the bed, despite what he'd said. As I did, he whispered a few words that weren't from any language I'd ever heard and a glowing ring formed around where I stood, a low pulse of white energy coming from it. It was the same kind of energy he used in my dreams; white, blank, a void. Safe and shadowless.

All the while, the creature waited. Maybe it wasn't even capable of fear, I don't know, but if it was, than it certainly didn't show any. It let Shiro take his time, let him talk to me, let him prepare. Part of it was probably because it couldn't draw too close to me while Shiro forced it to stay at a distance, but it didn't even seem to try. It was patient and unworried. This would be their last standoff. I knew it, Shiro knew it, and so did the monster that had tormented me since I was only a child.

Shiro's hand went up, like he was grabbling hold of something sitting just above his head. He smirked up at me and despite that I was taller than him, bigger than him, he seemed so much stronger than I was in that moment. "Love ya, Grimm."

With his words, he pulled his hand down in a clawing motion. Horns formed as if from no where. Teeth grew, jagged and sharp and deadly as his normally handsome features were covered by the mask-like visage of a skull. It was the same form he'd taken when fighting the monster before...and it hadn't ended well then. Even with that form in the way, I could see the glow of his golden eyes as the remained trained on me for a moment more before he turned away.

"No, Shiro!" I lunged forward, caught hold of his arm. "Don't..."

But he turned on me the moment I stepped outside his little circle. He let out a harsh, groaning snarl, and I was suddenly face to face with deadly features and vicious teeth. His overwhelming anger wasn't directed at me, but his force was, his power and his sternness. So too was his desperation.

"Don' move." He warned me in a dead, distorted voice as he laid a clawed hand in the middle of my chest. With a surprising gentleness, he pushed me back, away from him and forced me into the circle he'd created again. "Stay here. Yer safe here."

"Please don't..." I know he heard me, but he ignored me.

The pale demon I'd befriended and grown close to turned away from me and faced the shadowy monster. It seemed eager to finally end all this and black tendrils of oily shadow seemed to roll in like sickly smog. It flowed over Shi with enough power to make his long, white hair flow out around behind him, but still he didn't seem to fear it any more than it feared him. The incubus' stride was unhurried and confident as he walked away from me, toward where the creature's center was, passed and through all the sea of shadows it created.

"Shi!" I didn't step from his circle this time though. I couldn't stop him from doing this and I knew it, so I didn't want to be a distraction any more than I had to be. He told me to stay put and I would, but I had one last thing I had to say. I needed him to know, just in case.

He tilted his head fractionally, studying the shadowy bastard before turning to look over his shoulder at me. He didn't remove the mask though.

"I-I love you, too..."

A wide grin seemed to curl motionless, colorless features. It was impossible, of course, but it happened anyway. His brilliantly colored eyes flashed with his grin as he turned back to the monster with renewed confidence and determination and pounced with amazing speed. Lightning flashed outside, filtering in through the curtains and just as the night was transformed into day for that split second, shadows rushed to meet Shiro's charge.

They met as the room was once more drenched in darkness and shadow. Black swallowed the light like a gaping maw. Shadows danced across the walls and slithered through the air. They were cast across the ceiling and even blacked out the window. Like tendrils of acrid smoke, they drifted about the room, stole what little light they could find as their creator bid them. The unnatural shadows were so thick, they even dampened the sound of the rain thrumming against the windowpane.

Dark claws that glistened as if wet cut through the shadows to hook into pale flesh. Shiro's snarl was something straight out of his horror stories as he snagged hold of the less than palpable limb extending toward him. The incubus's own claws ripped through what sufficed as flesh, dragging and shredding, tearing away wispy ribbons of intangible, oily shadow. But what Shi tore away was replaced by more. Hunger rolled off the creature, hunger and fury and an air confidence. Just like before, when it had come for me and Shiro had stepped in it's path, it made not a sound as the darkness it created swallowed the only white left in the room and Shi disappeared.

Time seemed to drag by and all I could do was watch. Harsh snarling escaped the shroud of enveloping darkness as Shiro obviously continued fighting against it. He must have been able to see better than I could, at least enough to know where the real monster was hidden amongst all it's shadows.

The patter of something wet and thick against carpet was all too familiar and sickening to me. The room had gotten so cold I was shivering, but it only registered in the very back of my mind. I could hardly breathe as I stood there, beside the bed and safely out of harm's way where Shiro had told me to stay.

There was the ripping of flesh and a distorted yelp before something thudded to the ground. It could have only been Shi... But he was stronger this time around, he'd been feeding and was up to full strength. I kept telling myself he'd be fine, he'd beat it because of his renewed energy. He'd win because he had too, but I knew I was only lying to myself. Shiro was stronger than during the last fight, but so was the thing he fought against.

The pale demon's snarling picked up again almost instantly. The floor shook with the force of their fighting and the aggression they both seemed to overflow with. Power swirled in the air like the shadows that were created by the bastard tearing into Shi.

But Shiro still wasn't giving up. He wouldn't stop until he'd beaten it once and for all, until it couldn't hurt anyone ever again. His distorted snarling was interrupted by a sharper cry, something more pained but also more powerful. Rage carried in the incubus's tone, inhuman and driven and chaotic. It was something far more demonic than what I was used to, something that matched his violent, lethal looking visage as he fought.

The shadows seemed to recoil, something solid and malevolent following them, but it was a moment too late. Around where Shiro had been making his stand, the air seemed to pulse white with power. Like in my dreams, when Shi tried to help me sleep, the room was washed in a powerful void, exterminating the shadows, both living and natural. It was a quick flash, lasting a second or two at most, and then it was gone and the room was overcome by the dark of night once again.

Shadowy tendrils writhed upon the floor and the walls. A cold, oily substance splattered the otherwise light colored paint of the room, stained the carpet. Off to one side, where it'd been attempting to pull away from whatever Shi had done, the monster curled in upon itself before limbs raked and dug at the floor around it, too many to be normal. Features, for the first time since it had begun to show itself to me, became visible. Far too grotesque, I could hardly wrap my mind around what I was seeing. Not even vaguely resembling something human, a maw full of row upon row of vicious, black teeth stretched wide in silence. It had no eyes, not that I could see, and it's jaw seemed to unhinge like a snake's. Blackness bled out around it like ink staining the carpet, clearly wounded more gravely than I thought possible, but it wasn't blood, only greasy, liquid shadow.

And there, in the middle of the room, Shiro struggled to get back to his feet. He panted in short, quick breaths that plumed out as a warm fog before his features in the chill air. The bluish color of his blood trickled in rivulets down his torso, smeared his chest, his arms, his throat. More blood than I even knew a body could contain puddled the floor around him. He was badly injured and, like the killing void he'd created had been made of his very own soul, whatever he'd done to harm the nightmarish thing had taken it's tole on him as well. It had been a last resort weapon, a tool to be used only if he already knew he wouldn't survive. But he'd used it anyway, knowing it would be his most effective option against the shadow creature. I watched as he finally made it to his feet, dulled, golden eyes trained on the downed monster, but as he took a step, he stumbled, nearly crumbling to the floor again.

"Shiro..." He started towards him, uncaring about the creature still much too close to alive to not be dangerous anymore. But he knew it was still there, Shiro knew it was still a threat.

The mask-like visage he wore swung towards me, revealing a jagged crack that ran down one side. From below, however, his inverted gaze seemed to wake back up a bit, seemed to regain some of it's crazed glow.

"No." He held out a staying hand to keep me from coming toward him. "No...it's not dead yet...s-stay..."

I don't know how he expected me to listen, but he knew what he was doing, right? He certainly knew more than I did...so I listened. I stayed in the little protective circle he'd made as I watched him turn away from me and back toward the thing he'd been fighting. He'd told me I would never have to be afraid again, and now I understood. Now I feared for a completely different reason.

"Ya 'member wha' I told ya, Grimm..." He said between panting breaths as we both watched the shadowing creature pull itself back together and drag itself from the floor. Shadows swirled and roiled overtop of one another, layering and building to reform the monster. "Even though I'm a demon, don' ya let anyone tell ya I couldn' a cared 'bout ya. And stay in tha' circle 'till it's over."

"Don't do this, Shi..." My deep voice was hardly steady. I probably sounded like a coward but I didn't care. All I cared about was Shiro and he was about to get himself killed. "Maybe it'll realize it's mistake. We can find another way if we have to...just... please don't do this..."

He chuckled, the sound rich and lilting despite the distortion, but he didn't listen, he didn't stop. He'd see this through until the end, he'd make sure it never came back, never threatened or scared or hurt me again. Nothing would stop him, not even my begging. He just cared too much about me to let anything stop him.

When the pale entity met the dark of shadows again, it was bloody, it was violent. Nothing but demonic rage wafted from Shiro, more so than I had ever seen from him before. I think it was more than the shadow monster had expected. It had brought power with it, cultivated fear and grew, but Shiro had long ago mastered his own power and strength as well. He'd just hesitated in using his full capabilities, knowing the dangers and consequences of doing so.

When it was finally over and all had fallen silent and still, shadows, wispy and thin and dead, drifted about the room like dark smoke. What was left of the thing that had haunted me since I was a child was smeared across the room. The floor, the walls, it all seemed smeared in oily shadow. But it didn't touch Shiro. His white skin was marred only by the dark blue of his own life blood.

He stood frozen for a moment, his chest heaving under the effort to supply his lungs with air. A grimace seemed to flash across his motionless features, teeth bared like he knew he was in bad shape as he finally turned toward me. The fissure in his mask seemed to spread before my eyes and I knew that couldn't be good.

When he unsteadily made it to my side and stood before me, looking up at me, he reached up with a shaky hand and pulled the broken mask away. Rather than disappearing the way it'd appeared though, it slipped from lax fingers and dropped to the ground, shattering. Shards of white, bone looking material scattered across the room.

A weak, watery smirk tugged at his pale lips, a thick blue staining them and streaking his chin. I stared down at him with horror stricken features, eyes wide and chest tight, heart trying to decide whether to thud too fast or not at all. He started to speak, but words failed and the white, faintly glowing circle he'd made me stand in faded as he started to collapse.

I stepped forward and looped an arm around him, taking his weight as I guided him to the floor. Truthfully, I don't think my legs would have supported my own weight at that moment, let alone both of ours. Pulling him against me, his head lolled against my shoulder and I could just barely feel his shallow breaths. I wrapped my arms around him, probably squeezed a little too hard, but he didn't complain or seem to mind. Maybe he couldn't even feel it anymore. I didn't realize I had tears already streaking my features until he slowly, shakily reached up and wiped a few away with trembling fingers.

"Ya...f-finally get ta be normal..." He forced words from his throat, just barely loud enough for me to hear. His hand fell away from my face to land limply in his lap. His chest rose with a shuddering, wet breath and I shook my head in denial to everything that was happening, wishing I was only having another nightmare. But it wasn't a dream. It was real.

"No...Shi, I-I don't want to be normal anymore. I don't _care_ anymore! I-I just want you..."

I felt that smirk tug across his features again, where his face pressed against my neck, but he remained quiet. Even the ragged, wet sounds of his breathing went quiet. I sat there in silence, cradling a dying demon and waiting for his chest to rise with his next telling breath, holding my own as I choked back tears. But it didn't, his chest didn't rise. He was gone.

He was my only friend, something that was meant to be feared, a demon, my lover and the only thing I'd ever cared about and he was dead.

I couldn't wrap my mind around it. I didn't care that the shadow monster was dead too, that it was gone and would never come back. I didn't care that I was safe, that I could finally begin to recover, that I could stop jumping at every shadow, that I didn't have to worry about something lurking out of the dark at me anymore. I didn't care that I could move on and live a regular life; no more pills, no more slipping sanity or people thinking I was crazy. I didn't care that I could be normal, just like everybody else. I was alone, cradling the dead demon that I had grown to love.

It took an hour for Shi's body to finally fade away. It was like a really slowed down process of his teleportation thing. I could feel him begin to fade, his body growing lighter in weight and harder to see where I held him close, his long hair wetted by my tears. I didn't want him to fade away...I wanted to sit there and hold him as long as I could, but I couldn't stop it. He just...disappeared, leaving nothing behind but the blue blood he'd smeared across me when I kept him from collapsing to the floor. Even the pieces of his broken mask disappeared.

And then it was just me, sitting alone in a room that so much had happened in, both good and bad things. It took me forever to drag myself from the floor. I don't know how long. Long enough that my cell phone had gone off a few times in the other room. The only person that even had that number was my boss, so I guess I missed work. I didn't care, couldn't. All I cared about was gone.

Eventually I dragged myself off the floor and wandered my apartment. I checked every shadow in the place, every dark corner. I told myself I was just being paranoid, checking because I'd gotten so used to doing so, but really I was looking for it because if it had survived, maybe Shi had too. But the nightmare was over, the monster was dead, and with it, Shiro was gone too.

The water of my shower ran cold before I was able to drag up the strength to stumble from the tub. Washing all the pale incubus's blood from where it had dried on my skin almost hurt, but I don't know if it had been more of an emotional pain or a physical one. Maybe both. Probably both.

As I stood in front of the mirror, hands braced against the sink and shoulders hunched, still naked and dripping cold water, something finally came to life within me. A switch finally flipped on and something awakened in my mind. I swiped my hand across the fogged up mirror but I only wanted to see pale features reflected back and when that didn't happen, when all that stared back at me was my own features, anger roiled in my gut like a coming storm. I didn't know how to feel, how to deal with everything going on inside the turmoil of my head, but anger was a strong emotion. It cut through everything else, gave me something to hold on to and helped me begin to deal with what had happened. But it was only a temporary fix, a distraction.

A confrontation was imminent, had been since the hospital, really, but now I knew exactly how it would go and I was ready for it. I pulled cloths on with an angered fervor and stormed from the bathroom in silence. I barely even bothered to close my door as I left my apartment. He lived nearly on the other side of the city, closer to the hospital than to where I lived now, but it didn't take me as long to get there as I guessed it would. Anger and pain do amazing things to the human mind and body. They help make the seemingly impossible a reality.

I didn't even know what time of the day it was. It didn't matter. The storm was over, but another had rolled in close behind and it was still raining outside. The sky was a stifling, heavy gray and the rain was a cold, miserable drizzle. It was fitting, really, and now I hated it too.

I didn't have a key, never did, not even when I'd actually lived there, but I didn't need one. Even had my father not been home yet, nothing would have kept me from gaining entry. I stormed up the few steps to the front entrance and pounded against the door so hard it rattled in it's frame and echoed through the house. I heard angry and confused yelling, the sounds of swiftly approaching footsteps, but when he unlocked the door and threw it open, all his anger melted into surprise, even shock. Mine stayed exactly where it had been, drowning out all the fear and apprehension I had always felt towards my father.

He stared up at me with a disbelieving expression for a split second before I curled my lip in a sneer that was just asking for blood and pushed him inside without ever touching him. He backed away from me as I moved forward, pushing the door closed behind me. My anger and rage was palpable, tangible in the air. It burned in blue eyes and hardened already angular features. I knew how frightening I could be, and now he was seeing it too.

"Grimmjow... What ar-"

A wordless, snarling yell of nothing but pure hatred left my throat, interrupting his question. I could hardly form words passed all my writhing, seething emotions, all of which were fueled by pain, making them all the stronger. I shook with the force of trying to contain everything, trying not to just lash out and give our reunion a violent end.

He tried to approach me, his hand held out like he was going to grab hold of me. I don't even know if it was going to be an angry touch or if was trying to comfort me and get me to talk, but I didn't care. I jerked away before he made contact, snarling words in such a low voice I was surprised he heard them at all.

"Don't you dare touch me." He recoiled at the tone of my voice, at the way I leaned toward him like a predator about to lunge despite that I'd backed away from him. I think, in that moment, he finally realized he couldn't push me around anymore. I wasn't the scared little kid, drugged up on meds I didn't need and fearing nightmares that were more real than most. "I want to know everything, and don't you fucking lie to me this time."

He just stared at me, said nothing, but I knew he understood what I meant and what I was talking about.

"What is it? Where's it from?" I took another step toward him, standing straight and towering over him. When had he gotten so small? But he hadn't changed much since I had been in high school, not really. He looked a little older, maybe, hair a little more grey, but that was all. The changes had been in me. I'd grown, both in size and in mind. I was stronger now, not so timid and jumpy, and it was all thanks to Shi.

He shook his head, stared up at me with blue eyes that would have matched mine if he'd been able to conjure the amount of seething anger my own held. He tried to deny what I was saying, tried tell me all the things he'd used to say; it wasn't real, only in my head and that I was sick, that something was wrong with me.

"Don't!" I snarled a single word, nostrils flared like some dangerous animal. In that moment, that's exactly what I was and he was pushing a temper already at it's limits. My nerves were raw, unseen wounds bled, and I was mentally and emotionally at a limit I hadn't even known existed. I took a single, deep breath, eyes still swirling with cold fire. "No more lies... I know... I know it's real. I know you used to see it. I know it used to haunt you like it did me. I _know_! Don't you dare try to lie to me anymore."

"Now, Grimmjow-"

I slammed my fist into the cupboard behind him so hard I broke the damn door to it, cracked the wood and bloodied my knuckles. He tried to cover his surprised and instinctive flinch, but I caught it and it was oddly gratifying. Definitely worth the bruising and soreness I'd have later.

He closed his eyes, took a steadying breath and passed his hand through his greying hair before finally nodding and looking back up at me. "Alright...you're right, Grimmjow. I know about it..."

I hadn't been expecting that, not at all. I guess I'd expected that he'd just continue to deny it until he finally pushed me to far, until something stupid happened or I gave up. But I guess he realized it wasn't going to happen.

"What do you want to know?" I guess some part of him knew this day would come, when even the medication hadn't made my demons go away, and again when he'd seen me in the hospital, he must have known there was no getting around this.

"Everything." I growled back at him. He owed me this, he owed me the truth after so many years of lies and just because he was being cooperative now didn't mean I was about to calm down.

He was quiet for a long moment, brows furrowed with something that I refused to acknowledge coming from this man. He was every bit the monster to me as the shadowy thing had been. Finally, he sighed. "I hardly know where to begin..."

So he started at the very beginning. He told me basically what Shiro had said. He explained that it feeds off fear, grows stronger with it and to get rid of it, to make it stop hurting whoever it attaches to, you had to starve it. He told me that he'd grown out of it, out of the ability to see these things like most kids do. That he'd stopped being able to see ghosts, stopped being able to see the monster too, so he couldn't fear it, and it couldn't feed from him. He had thought, when he got older and got married, when he found out that I was on the way, he'd thought it would stay away because it hadn't been able to feed off him since he was but a child. He thought it was dead, or that it had at least moved on to something else. But it hadn't stayed away and it had quickly become obvious that when I grew old enough to distinguish the things around me, when I'd gotten to be a toddler rather than a baby, that it had come back and I could see it too.

But unlike him, I hadn't grown out of it for some reason. So, to try and kill it again, he'd done everything he could to starve it, to keep me from fearing it, and eventually, that had led him to taking me to shrink after shrink until he could find one that would diagnose me with a disorder and he could begin drugging me in the hopes that the meds would wear me down enough to make my fear go away. He told me he hadn't known what else to do. He told me he'd been trying to do what was best for me, trying to save me before it could take everything away from me.

When he was finally done, I stood rooted to the floor, frozen in place as I stared at him. How could any of that be possible? But it was the truth, I could tell he wasn't lying to me and...he even managed to look like it pained him as much as it did me. I shook my head and took a step back and away from him. Everything I'd ever thought of the man, every image of him I'd developed suddenly crashed down around me.

My anger faded to a dull throb in my scull, making room for all the pain I'd buried under it. What my father didn't realize as he told me all this was that it had already taken everything from me. It had made him take my childhood away, had taken away my only parent and made me hate my own father. It took away the chance at friends, at a normal life. And now it had taken Shi too.

Now, not only was I alone, but I no longer knew what to think and feel toward my father. I didn't just stop hating him, I couldn't forgive him for what he'd done. He was still a monster, but now he was a different kind of monster, a more complicated one.

And worst of all, all I could think about was Shi. He was still all I wanted.

He was dead, the only person I'd ever cared about and the only person that had cared about me in return was gone, and I couldn't even tell anyone. He was a demon, something that was supposed to be evil, if it even existed at all. No one had known about him, only one other person had ever seen him. How could I possibly bear all the pain, anger, guilt and grief on my own? I didn't even have a body left to put to rest. There was no closure and nothing right or just in any of this.

There was no light, despite that the shadows were gone. My world was very, very dark.

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**Thoughts? T^T  
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	11. Chapter 11

******This story is finally drawing to a close~ I think the next chapter will probably be the last  
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******Anyway**, not terribly happy with the second half of this chapter :/ it feels really flat to me... But I guess maybe that's because that's how Grimmjow feels too; devoid, bereft. I don't know. I'll let you guys judge.

**Try to enjoy!**

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I took a backward step, then another, before I lifted my hands and ran them through my already tussled blue hair, motions slow and drawn out. I turned away from my father, exhaled a deep breath I'd been holding. What now? What the hell was I supposed to do with all that he'd told me? I closed my eyes for a moment before dragging my hands down my face and finally turning back toward the man who's house I stood in. I set my features, brows furrowed and blue eyes hard.

I still had questions, I still needed answers. I hadn't come to confront my father for nothing. As much as it stunned me to hear all that he told me, to find out that, in his own way, he really had been trying to do what was best for his only child, I hadn't come here for that. I needed to know what he knew, but I needed to know more than what he'd told me.

"W-where can I find it?" I tried, I really did, to keep my voice even and sturdy. I failed though, but I couldn't care. I tried again and this time I did manage to sound more like myself, voice growling and demanding without ever raising in volume. "How do I find it?"

"What? Grimmjow, what are you..." He took a step toward me, but his reaching hand fell back to his side as I curled my lip and took a very small step away. He almost managed to look hurt, the sentiment flashed through his eyes, if not actually across his features. "Are you saying it's gone? It's finally leaving you alone?"

He sounded so...hopeful, so disbelieving. I didn't answer him. I didn't owe him anything, certainly not answers, not explanations. So instead, I just growled a repeat, words low and slow with a forced calm. "I need to know how to find it."

He shook his head with confusion and incomprehension, tried to approach me again. This time, I didn't back away. I didn't let him touch me either though, didn't give him the chance. I didn't have time for this. I didn't have time for him. I had an incubus to find...or at least, I hoped I did. I couldn't accept that he was really gone, that he was really dead.

When my father stepped toward me, I met him half way. My big hands found the front of his shirt, my features set in a dark expression that left no room for misunderstanding. I pushed him backward, it was an easy task. I had grown to be quite a bit bigger than him, heavier and stronger, more muscle mass. His back hit the counter as a grunt escaped him from the force I used. His eyes widened as he looked up at me. Before, when we would clash, I had always cowered, had always backed down, tried to escape. Not anymore.

I leaned in close, got in his face with bared teeth and fire laced eyes. I wasn't asking any more. I was demanding. It didn't matter that he was biologically my father, I would get my answers. The look on my face alone was enough to tell him I wouldn't repeat myself.

"I-I don't know. I've never gone looking for it..." He was reeling, I knew he was. He didn't know how to handle and deal with any of this any more than I did. Despite that, he spoke the truth. He didn't have the answers I needed, which meant I was done with him.

I pushed away from him, released his shirt. He fell back against the cupboards, hands braced against the counter behind him and eyeing me like I was an unpredictable animal. I stared at him for a moment, saying nothing as I replayed what he'd told me, a scowl etched across my features. With a sneer and a small, rumbling growl, I turned away and was out the door before he could even react.

"Grimmjow..." For once in his life, he followed after me, but not far. He jerked the door open wider and rushed out of his house, but he paused on the front steps and watched as I took off down the street in the rain. He didn't try to stop me, he probably knew he wouldn't have been able to.

I wasn't ready to give up, just because my father couldn't help me. I don't know what I had expected from him anyway. I should have known he wouldn't be any help to me, he'd never been helpful before.

One other person had known about Shiro, had been able to see him, had talked to him...maybe Dr. Kurosaki would be able to help me. He knew more about the paranormal than I did anyway. He was my only hope.

The hospital wasn't really that far from where my father lived, but by the time I made it there I was soaked through with the rain, my hair hanging wetly in my face and my clothes sticking to me. It didn't even register that the man I was looking for might not even be working at that moment. If he wasn't, I'd have no idea where to find him at, but I had to talk to him. He _had_ to be there.

When I ran through the front, sliding glass doors of the lobby, all eyes turned toward me. The attention that I would have desperately avoided not so long ago hardly even registered to me in that moment. I slammed my hands down on the counter, eyes wide, wild and nostrils flared as I panted and tried to catch my breath. The receptionist gasped, jolted in her seat as she looked up at me from across the counter. But she was a trained professional, she recovered quickly and jerked to her feet in concern. "Sir! Are you alright?"

"I need to speak with Dr. Kurosaki." I told her between breaths.

"Is this an emergency? I can call a different doctor, one that's not busy..."

"No! No...I need to see Isshin...please..." I cast my wide, desperate blue eyes around the room before they landed on the hall that led toward the patient wing of the hospital. "Can't you page him? Tell him Grimmjow needs to talk to him, he'll understand."

"I can, but he's scheduled to be with a patient right now..." The nurse picked up the phone sitting beside her as she spoke, sill looking at me. Her voice was calm, quiet. She was trying to keep me calm, trying to keep me from freaking out. "If this is an emergency, we have other doctors that can help you..."

"It's not. It is...I-I don't know. I just need to talk to him, only him..."

"Alright," She smiled up at me from behind her desk and pulled the phone to her ear as she began dialing. "we'll give him a call then. What did you say your name was?"

I nodded, raised my hand to run my fingers through my hair and push it away from my face as I answered her and finally began feeling paranoid enough to look around at the rest of the waiting room. Other people hurriedly looked away, like they didn't want to be caught staring, but I didn't really care that I was the weird kid anymore. I didn't care that they stared or whispered.

The nurse's voice echoed quietly through the halls outside the waiting room as she spoke over the intercom. When she was done, she offered me a seat, which I declined, unable to calm down enough to sit. If I sat, I didn't think I'd be able to get back up again. Everything my father had revealed, my own panic, Shi's death, there was just too much for me to deal with at that moment. I had to stay up, stay focused, or I was going to lose it.

It seemed I always had the strangest effects on the few people around me. My boss, Shi, now the doctor; if I called, they came. I guess because I didn't rely on others often, those few that I did understood it was important when I needed them. It only took the doctor maybe ten minutes at most to finish up whatever he'd been doing and rush down to the waiting room to find me.

He rushed into the lobby, towel still in hand from where he'd been drying them on the go. His dark eyes were a little wide, worried, despite his calm and collected, doctor's demeanor. They landed on me almost instantly and, despite my best efforts to be as calm as possible, could easily see through my mask. He walked right up to me, but didn't touch me as he directed me toward the back. We entered the hallway he'd come from, where all the patient rooms are. He didn't say anything until he had me seated in an empty room, the door closed behind us.

I tried to tell him I didn't want to sit, I couldn't sit, but he insisted. He read body language well, it was part of his job. He was a doctor, he knew I needed to, or would need to, even if he didn't know what was going on.

After I finally gave in and dropped into the chair, he pulled up a chair of his own and sat in front of me. I could feel his eyes looking me over, searching for evidence of what may have happened, searching for the reason I'd come to him. I'm sure he assumed the shadow creature had come back and gotten ahold of me again. In a way, that wasn't so far from the truth.

Finally, after a few minutes went by in near silence, only the sound of my heavier than normal breathing as I finally regained my breath breaking the quiet, he spoke.

"What happened, Grimmjow?" He prompted, trying to get me to focus on him and start talking. His brows furrowed and a frown tugged at his features as he sat up a little and gave the small room a quick once over. "Where's Shiro?"

A sound choked up my throat. It was supposed to be a word, an answer, but it didn't quite manage to sound like one. I pulled in a deep breath but it didn't feel like there was any oxygen in my lungs. Leaning forward, I covered my face with my hands and rested my forehead against my knees as I sat in the chair, suddenly appreciative that he'd insisted I sit. I don't think I would have been able to stay on my feet at that moment.

"Grimmjow?" His voice was quiet, soothing but with a hint of his worry and confusion. He reached toward me, hand hovering over me, but he didn't touch. He remembered; don't touch me. But it was hard to help someone you couldn't touch and it showed in his kind features. "Talk to me, Grimmjow... It came back?"

It wasn't a hard thing to guess, really. I nodded, head still bowed and face still hidden. My chest felt so tight, like something was squeezing it, a giant, shadowy hand wrapped around my body. I took another deep breath and nodded again. My hands slid upward until my fingers curled in my hair, knuckles white. The hand I'd punched my father's cupboard door with throbbed, knuckles swore and probably swollen. The ache traveled into my fingers and down my wrist, letting me know I'd probably jammed or broken something, but I hardly noticed it. It was an almost welcomed pain, a small distraction from the other pains.

"Tell me what happened, Grimmjow..." The doctor implored again, talking in a quiet, smooth voice. He was staying calm, trying to get me to stay calm. He knew I was on the verge of breaking down.

Another deep breath. Just breathe.

"I-it did...and Shi..." I could barely say his name, my voice quivering with that single syllable. "Shi killed it, but..." I finally straightened, looked up at the doctor. I pulled my hands from my hair, ringing them in my lap, unable to sit still but unable to force myself to get up. I was exhausted but I had too much emotion fueled energy all at the same time. What I was trying to say must have shown on my features because the doctor's brows pulled tighter and his dark eyes told me he had no idea what to say.

"I tried to stop him..." My voice was barely a whisper. "He wouldn't let me...he-he... I held him...while he was dying..."

The doctor didn't seem to know what to say to that either, but I guess, why should he have? What was there to say? Shiro wasn't even a human, I didn't expect anyone other than myself to mourn him. But Dr. Kurosaki didn't look like he didn't care, he looked like he understood all too well, like he knew what I was going through and what I was trying to deal with. He knew loss. I didn't know what kind of loss, not yet, or when it had happened, but I knew he understood because he could relate.

"I have to find him. He can't be dead, he's a demon, right? He can't just be gone..."

To me, it didn't make any sense. How did a demon die? It wasn't really alive in the first place, not like a person is, anyway. And even if a demon could be killed, where did it go afterward? Sometimes, in some cases, there were ways to find a person's spirit, or ghost or whatever you want to call it, surely I could find Shiro again, right?

But Isshin shook his head in a slow, regretful manner and my heart dropped. He didn't have any answers either. I said nothing, unable to. I could barely breathe, let alone speak. I stood, I had to, I couldn't sit there any longer. I had to get up. Move. Start looking. I had to do _something_, before I drove myself truly insane. He didn't know anything, he couldn't help me. I was wasting his time and mine and I didn't have any time to waste.

Before I could make it more than a step toward the door, the doctor's hand shot out and he caught hold of my arm, pulling me back toward the chair. I froze, a ripple running through my body, energy passed from the doctor. I sucked in a surprised breath, saw flashes; a pretty woman with red-tinted blond hair and a kind smile, a boy a little younger than me, bright orange hair. He looked kind of familiar. Twin daughters. I saw Isshin smiling. A hospital bed, tears. A happy family, broken.

Then he released me, and the images were replaced by the real thing as Dr. Kurosaki said my name a few times before I cleared my head enough to respond. I hadn't even realized he'd pulled me back into the chair and was kneeling on the floor beside me, looking worried again, but he didn't touch me. Shiro had told him that was a bad idea and he looked like he realized that he had done it anyway. He looked regretful, apologetic. But he only wanted to help, I could see that. He was a good doctor and a good man.

I gave him a weak, pathetic excuse of a smile, blue eyes a little sadder than normal. "You're kids look just like her." I whispered. He understood.

It took him by surprise. I was a stranger, someone who'd never heard of his family, never known anything about any of them. I didn't really even know him, I just knew that he could see the things that I could, that he believed me. I only knew that to him, I wasn't crazy.

He stuttered over what to say for a moment before he finally nodded slightly, a small, sad smile settling on his features. "They do."

A moment passed by in complete silence, not even the noise from the halls seemed to reach the room. I didn't know what to do, I felt like I'd invaded his privacy but it wasn't like I meant to. It hadn't even been my fault, I was careful not to touch people for a reason. But he wasn't mad and when I started to stand up again, intent on leaving and running back to my apartment and coming up with a way to find Shiro, the doctor settled his hand over my knee, only touching rain soaked cloth and not actually me. He didn't say anything, but stood as I paused and stayed in the chair. Crossing the room, he rummaged around in a drawer before coming back to sit in front of me again.

I'd already seen what he had to show me, so I didn't recoil when he hesitantly reached out toward me again. He paused, watching my features, before he gently grabbed my damaged hand and began looking it over. The contact brought that hum of energy with it, the doctor's memories, but the visions were easily held at bay this time, not so eager as moments ago.

"Shiro had told me you could see things..." His deep voice was quiet while he cleaned off what was left of the blood on my knuckles. The rain had taken care of most of it. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to do that to you."

I shook my head, silently told him it was fine. He didn't ask about what had happened to my hand. He had to have known I'd hit something solid, the damage done was pretty obvious, but he didn't mention it. He just silently and quickly bandaged it up for me, told me to keep an eye on the bruising and swelling and that if it got too bad to come back so he could see if anything was broken.

He didn't stop me from getting up this time, nor did he apologize for not being able to help me in my search, but I could see the apology in his eyes. He didn't need to say it. I knew he would have helped me if he knew how.

So I left, silent and no closer to what I was trying to do than I had been before I'd sought Isshin out. I left through the same hall the doctor had taken me down, crossed the waiting room. The receptionist looked up at me, trying to force a polite and reassuring smile onto her surprised, confused features. I paid her very little attention, just that quick, cursory glance before I hurried out the doors and back into the cold, miserable rain.

The trip back to my apartment took far longer than the one to my father's place. I didn't run, had no reason to. I didn't bother with a cab or the bus, I just didn't care. I wanted to walk, wanted to be up and moving and thinking. The rain matched my mood and everything that had been happening perfectly and I hung my head, blue hair weighed down and hanging in my face, as I stuffed my hands into my pockets and slowly made my way across the city.

It took me nearly an hour, but it didn't matter. I had nothing to come home too, just an empty apartment. Even the shadows were devoid of life, malevolent or otherwise. It was just me and my thoughts.

I skipped going to bed that night. I just couldn't make myself lay down and sleep, knowing what would surely await me behind closed eyes. Like when I was little, just a kid living with my father, I stayed up because I feared what would find me in the dark of night, but this time, it wasn't the shadows or the physical wounds that I would have found. It was something worse, something infinitely more painful. There were no physical wounds, but it was horrifying how much his loss hurt me.

But life went on.

Things didn't just stop because I was hurting. Life didn't pause in sympathy. I returned to work. Shiro was gone, but I wasn't and I still needed to make enough cash to keep my place. I was quiet, more so than usual. My boss tried to question me about my absence the other day, what would have been the day after Shi's fight, I think. I didn't answer him, hardly even looked at him. I did my job, fixed people's cars, and I did it without a sound.

My boss, my coworkers, none of them knew I could see ghosts and things. No one knew about Shi. No one even knew that I'd been with anyone, human or otherwise. How was I supposed to answer all the questions? I couldn't. I couldn't just tell my boss I was mourning the loss of my...whatever Shiro had been. I couldn't tell him that I'd loved a demon. I couldn't tell him that an incubus had died so that I never had to be afraid of the dark again. I couldn't tell him that I'd watched the fight, that I stood by, knowing Shiro wasn't going to walk away from this one. I couldn't tell him that Shiro had died in my arms, that there was nothing that I could do.

After a couple days, my boss stopped asking about what had happened. He could see it, I think, how broken I was, how withdrawn. I was distancing myself from reality, but I didn't know how to stop it. After a week, I just kind of went numb.

I worked myself to near exhaustion every day, picked up all the extra hours I could. I went in early, left late. When someone needed a shift covered, I gladly took it. When someone called off, my boss called me, knowing I would want to be there, knowing I wanted to be anywhere other than my apartment. I needed something to do. Sitting in my apartment tore me apart. Being helpless to save Shi was nearly enough to kill me. I felt like I'd run out of time.

But I couldn't just give up. All I could think about was pale skin and fiery, golden eyes, of long, silken hair and passion and his distorted, lilting voice. I couldn't get Shiro out of my head. So finally, I declined a few extra hours at work. My boss looked shocked, but somehow pleased when I simply shook my head and told him a low, mumbled and rough voice that I needed to take care of something.

As I walked passed that little antique shop on my way home from work, the one that used to have the ghost that would stand out front and annoy the piss out of me, I paused. Glancing around a bit, I carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside. A little bell above the door chimed. It wasn't an obnoxious sound, just a small, silvery sound. An older woman looked up, smiled at me, then went back to what she'd been doing. She froze for a moment and her eyes widened slightly before she looked back up at me with a critical eye.

"Can I help you, young man?" She asked in a sweet, grandmotherly voice.

I shrugged, made a face of skepticism. I doubted it.

She slowly rounded the counter she'd been standing behind, but didn't approach me. She studied me for a moment and I stared back, silent and still, unsure. "What is it that you're looking for?"

"I-I don't really know..."

She merely nodded. "I've a few decent ouija boards, but they wont help you contact the one you're looking for. He's too far in middle territory... The cards wont reveal anything; you don't care to know your future, nor hear of your past."

I stared with wide eyes. "How do you know all that?"

"I'm a seer, lad," She pointed behind me and when I turned to look over my shoulder, a sign was posted on the door, offering free readings. "there's a few of us left that aren't just a load of crap... You are a very haunted young man."

"And I want my demons back. D-do you know how to help me?"

She chuckled at that, a throaty, rich sound. "Not many people ask for that kind of service, nor are they ever so literal... I do not, lad, nor have I anything that would be of use to you... But, you'd be surprised what you can find in books."

With that, she turned away from me and went back behind her counter, picking up where she'd left off on whatever task I had interrupted. I also turned and left. The little bell chimed behind me.

I took her advice, and I went to the library. Sadly, I'd never set foot in one before and the place was a lot bigger than I had been expecting. They had a lot of books crammed into that little building... I signed up for a membership because that was the only way you could check out anything and take it home and I figured I'd be doing a lot of reading for a while.

Seriously, do you look for paranormal shit in the fiction section? The science stuff? Maybe autobiographies or field journals or something. What about the religion section? Or mythology? It doesn't really seem to fit anywhere. It's a field of study that fits between what's considered real and fake. Some people believe whole heartedly that it's real, that ghosts and demons and entities exist. Other's think it's a load of crap, if they can't see it than it's not real. But ask anyone at all, in a public setting, they'll probably look at you like you're insane and brush it off, never mind whether they actually believe or not.

It took me forever to find what I was looking for, but I didn't want to ask. Not even I knew exactly what I was looking for. So I spent hours in search, wandering the isles, skimming through titles and genres. I pulled books from their shelves, read through a few pages, put them back. By the time I decided to leave, it was nearly dark out and I'd managed to find three books that looked like they might be remotely helpful.

The lady that helped me check out quickly glanced over the titles before smiling at me. "A school project?"

My first reaction was to tell her I'd already graduated, but then I realized I was the right age for college and that's probably what she meant. Instead, I nodded. "Uh, yeah."

"Well I hope you find them useful. They need to be returned or renewed two weeks from today, please."

"Sure, thanks." I grabbed the books and left.

I ended up spending nearly the whole night reading. It was fascinating stuff, for the most part anyway, but very little of it really helped me out or even touched on what I needed to know. Or what I thought I needed to know. Honestly, I had no idea what I was looking for. All I knew was that I figured I'd recognize it if I found it; whatever would help me find Shi. I couldn't just sit around and do nothing, and I couldn't work long enough to keep from thinking about him. I'm pretty sure I'd die before that ever happened, so I had to start somewhere.

I barely dragged myself to work the next morning, but I guess all my nights of fitful, pitiful sleep must have been showing before then, and none of my few coworkers nor my boss said much about it. Once again, I declined the offer to stay late, and headed back home to do some more reading.

By the end of that week, I'd visited nearly every library in the city. After marking all those off my list, I went to all the stores I could find. I ended up visiting every little, out of the way spirituality bull shit shop I could find, every hole in the wall, oddball shop that might carry anything at all that had to do with paranormal stuff. And I never came back to my apartment empty handed. I ended up with mountains of books, dvds, magazines, old newspaper articles, anything at all I could find that might be even remotely helpful.

My kitchen table no longer held anything other than stacks of books. There was a stash of dvds and vhs tapes stacked up in the corner by my little tv. I actually had to hunt down someone who still even had a VCR. The floor before the couch sported it's own collection of half read magazines and other materials. Eventually I ran out of space and in order to keep track of what had already been read through and what hadn't, I started stuffing all the things I'd already gone through into my bedroom.

That's how my time was spent. I got up in the morning, went to work and tried to wear myself out, but I stopped picking up all the extra shifts. When I got home, I'd take a quick shower, make something to eat if I remembered that I needed to feed myself, and then throw myself back into reading or watching or whatever was on the agenda for that evening. I'd finally put my maddening search on hold maybe a few hours before I had to be to work again in order to get at least a little bit of sleep. Then it started all over again. Everyday. For weeks.

I worked myself to the bone. I worked myself into exhaustion and it wasn't even just physical labor anymore. It was as emotionally and mentally wearing as it was physically, maybe more so. But I couldn't stop, couldn't slow down. There probably wasn't a time limit, or maybe I'd already exceeded it if there was one. I had no idea, all I knew was that I needed Shi.

It wasn't fair. He shouldn't have done that too me... I know he was only trying to protect me, trying to do what was right so that I would be safe. He did it because he cared about me, but it wasn't right. It wasn't fair to him or to me...

You never really realize how alone you are until you're not anymore, until you're finally given that one person that believes in you and cares about you. Until you start to realize that person is real and that person isn't going anywhere because they're feelings are real too, only to have that one person ripped away from you.

At first, before you realize just how alone you are, it's really not so bad. You don't have anything to compare it to, so it doesn't bother you. That's just kind of how things are. But it's impossible to go back to that. It's impossible to not really mind anymore, not after you've been shown how things are supposed to be.

Before, all I ever wanted was to be left alone. People weren't going to stop thinking I was crazy, so I just wanted to live in my own little corner and stay in the shadows, to stay under the radar and stay out of focus. I wanted to be alone.

But now, I couldn't do it. Now, it hurt. But it wasn't just that I didn't want to be alone anymore, it wasn't just that I'd been shown what it was like to be accepted by someone, to be around someone. I could work my ass off, surrounded by coworkers, my boss, all day long. Hell, I probably could have made friends with the doc, or maybe his son. His kid was close to my age. Maybe even my father, had I really been that desperate, I could have tried to fix that mess. But I didn't want that. I didn't just want a companion or company, I didn't just want anyone.

I wanted Shiro back.

I would have taken all the shadows back, all my demons and monsters. I would have taken all the fear and all the blood. Hell, even the pills and the slipping sanity and the cool tile floor. I would have gladly taken all of it back, if it meant I got to hold onto that little bit of light again.

* * *

**Please give me your thoughts?  
**


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